How a family should be
by BardDown
Summary: Follow a still learning courier as he finds replacements for the family he has forgotten.
1. Drinking age

"We could probably just go around them," Arcade mumbled uneasily "they might not even spot us."

Boone grunted in response, tightening the grip on his rife as he watched the movements of the people below the ridge. He peered through the scope and shifted, settling down on one knee. The Courier sat next to him, his blue eyes shining with eagerness as he looked up to Boone.

"How many?" He asked, pulling a combat knife from his boot. Boone kept his focus ahead, barley mumbling his response.

"Three, all scouts."

"Weapons?"

"Spears and caravan shotguns…. Maybe a hunting rifle."

"Any pants?"

"… Nope."

"IM ON IT!"

The thin brunette vaulted over the side of the ridge with nothing but a knife in hand and a grin on his face. Boone just barley caught his movements from the corner of his eye and reached out in hopes of snagging his jacket.

"No! DAMMIT COURIER!"

In the end it came down to a decision. It was either let go of his rife and grab the kid, or let him go bolting into a blood bath and save the gun. The excuse he would later tell Arcade would simply consist of "It's a_ really_ good gun."

Arcade probably would have dropped a sick puppy to save the kid, but he didn't notice until it was too late. "A day late and a cap short" The Courier would later inform him. Right now, he was skidding down the incline, knife in hand. He hit the ground and lunged, bringing the first legionary he could grab down like a sack of rocks. The man only had time to let out a surprised yelp before having the knife driven into his neck, right between the typical weak spot of legionary armor.

"Courier!" Arcade called, pulling out his defender. He didn't get a chance to use it however, since Boone picked off the other two as they turned to see what had become of their partner. Blood leaked onto the sand in thick puddles as both men started down the ridge, sending loose sand and rocks down as they slid.

"Are you _mad_?" Arcade asked, gaping. The Courier frowned, obviously disapproving of what the dead legionary had been carrying.

"Yeah, I'm a little miffed now that you mention it. You'd think these fuckers would at least have good weapons on them. If I see another fucking spear I'm sending it through someone's eye."

Arcade rolled his eyes and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned to Boone, who simply shrugged as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"At least he's killing Legion and leaving the villagers alone." He mumbled, cigarette bobbing up and down between his lips as he spoke. Arcade shook his head, looking slightly worried. He wasn't exactly a fan of The Legion, and Boone had understandable motivations against them. But he didn't really understand why The Courier seemed to have such a grudge, other than the fact "those skirt wearing pussies need to put on pants," as he so eloquently put it.

Arcade grimly figured he just liked killing, but was a step above murdering civilians.

"Ohhhhhh, look what I found!"

Both older men looked over curiously. The Courier produced an almost full bottle of vodka, the label scratched off and caked with dirt. He grinned with triumph before ripping the stopper from the top of the bottle with his teeth. Arcade jumped forward and snatched the bottle from his thin hands.

"No." He ordered simply, as if disciplining a dog or a small child.

"Aw, come on Arcade!" The smaller man laughed, reaching for it. Arcade held it away with one long arm, using the other to hold The Courier back.

"You're to young-"

He stopped in surprise as the bottle was grabbed from him. He just caught Boone out of the corner of his eye as the man passed behind him, bottle in hand. Arcade sighed as the sniper perched himself on a nearby rock, prize secured.

"To drink." The blonde doctor finished. The Courier smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm old enough! I'm like what, eighteen?"

"You _might_ be eighteen," Arcade corrected, adjusting his glasses "You very well could be younger. I'm only guessing here."

"He needs a name."

Both turned towards Boone, who had been totally silent up until this point. The Courier tilted his head.

"Huh?"

"You need a name." The sniper repeated, blowing smoke out of his mouth. Arcade nodded, turning to the younger man.

"You do. We can't keep calling you courier. You deserve a name."

The Courier shrugged sluggishly, and then smiled.

"Can it be Gunner?"

"No." Arcade groaned.

"Farley?"

"No!"

"The Avenger?"

"You're not picking!"

"What? That's bull!"

Boone looked up at the night sky, admiring the blaring stars as he took a swig from the bottle of vodka.

"He's courier six, just call him Six."

Arcade raised an eyebrow.

"That's not very crea-"

"I LOVE IT!" The Courier yelled, his words toppling obnoxiously over Arcade's. The middle aged doctor sighed and shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

"If you like Six, then Six it shall be."

Six pumped his fists in the air, letting out a satisfied "I WIN!"

**Six is a character I randomly though of while playing FNV the other day. I could make this a series if enough people like it.**


	2. Don't tempt me

If you had told Arcade a few months ago that he would be following a troubled seventeen year old and a mentally stressed sniper around the desert, he would have laughed. Well, maybe not laughed. Probably more like an amused grunt before turning back to his mind-numbing mix of busy work and dead-end research.

He had joined Six out of a sense of responsibility more than anything else. Six was smart. Very smart. But, at the same time….. If you asked Arcade, he would probably say something polite, like "spontaneous."

But what he really was, was fucking _insane_.

He needed somebody to watch him, to point out when something was obviously stupid. Boone had managed that with mild success until Arcade came along, but he had his own issues. Arcade usually had to boss him around as well.

Arcade was basically the mom.

"Arcade?"

The thin blonde shifted and winced, his eyes still shut tightly. Six wondered grimly if he was ever going to wake. What if he didn't? What if that knock over the head totally scrambled his brain? What would he do without him?

…. Who else would wash his underwear? Boone sure as hell wouldn't.

Six scooted clumsily over to Arcade. Both men had their arms and legs bound.

Fucking Powder Gangers.

"Arcade!" Six hissed again. The doctor's face twitched as he eyes slowly opened. He looked around, dazed and confused. It seemed to take him a few seconds to meet Six's eyes, even though the teenager was right in front of him.

"S-Six? Where are we?"

Arcade's watery blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when he realized he was bound. He rolled over onto his side and moaned as pain jolted through his head. He flexed his face and felt the stiffness of dried blood.

Suddenly it all came back to him.

Arcade craned his neck and gave Six an annoyed look. The younger male shrugged as he struggled fruitlessly with his binds, causing dust to come up from the concrete floor they were lying on.

"Arcy, if we get out of this I swear to god we'll never go treasure hunting in abandoned buildings again."

Arcade fought back a growl. He didn't like being called "Arcy." The fact they had been captured by Powder Gangers and were now tied up in the dark wasn't helping his disposition much either.

"Where's Boone?"

Six visibly flinched.

"I-I don't know. They dragged him away a few minutes ago. He left swearing like a champ though, I didn't even know "fuck basket" was an insult. Apparently if you take away his beret, you also let his insanity lose."

Arcade took in a deep breath, making his chest strain against his binds.

"Don't worry Six; I'm sure he's fine. We will be too."

"I'm not worried."

"Of course you are."

"There's nothing to be worried about," Six bit his bottom lip "is there?"

His question seemed to be answered by the door at the end of the room suddenly bursting open. In walked a middle aged man, his dress composed of the usual Powder Ganger shirt and vest. He walked before his captives and grinned as mostly toothless grin.

There aren't many dentists in the Mojave Wasteland, obviously.

"Where's Boone you fucking ass-clown?" Six demanded, his voice drenched in rage. Arcade let out an un-approving grunt, but kept his mouth shut. The only way to quite Six was physically, which wasn't possible at the moment.

The Powder Ganger gave one, almost rusty seeming laugh.

"The bald guy? In the back. NCR get the _special treatment_ around here, kiddo."

Six gritted his teeth.

"Call me kiddo again and ill cut your balls off and feed them to a feral ghoul you piece of-"

Arcade dragged himself over a few inches with his legs and kicked Six in the ankle, warning him. The toothless ganger raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"You gotta' mouth on you, eh shrimp?"

He stepped forward and reached over his shoulder, pulling out an oversized sledge hammer. He let the top heavy weapon lay loosely in his hands.

"Which one of you want to lose your-"

Though Six was small, he was a lot stronger than he looked. Nothing proved his more than when in a surge of movement he kicked is legs, knocking the ganger over. The older man hit the ground just as Six jabbed forward, the toes of his Steele-toed boots hitting the man right in the crotch. He let out a less than manly scream and back peddled, getting himself a safe distance from the tied up seventeen year old.

"Ooooh, you're so fuckin' getting it!"

He retrieved is dropped weapon and approached once again, fuming. Six jabbed again, but missed by inches. Arcade sat up and tried a similar attack, but the ganger planted a well-aimed boot onto his chest, almost knocking the wind out of him as well as flat on his back.

In one swift motion the hammer was brought up.

And an even swifter motion as it was brought down on Six's right leg, breaking the bone.

Arcade winced as Six let out a blood curtailing scream and curled up in a ball. Tears formed in his eyes as he let out every swear the English language offered, and even a few in what seemed to Arcade to be some foreign language.

Then then the crackling of breaking wood as the door was kicked in.

Then one gunshot.

The Powder Gangers head exploded in a shower of crimson gore.

Arcade thought he may have screamed, but wasn't quite sure. The deafening mix of Six's cursing and the gunshot disoriented him.

Before the bloody corpse seemed to even hit the floor Boone was at Arcade's side, cutting through his binds with a switchblade he had managed to conceal. Once the blonde was free he sprang up, only stumbling once from his stiff limbs before reaching Six's side.

He wanted to question the sniper on his escape, but that had to wait.

"_WHAT THE FUCK!" _Six roared as Boone accidently brushed his leg while cutting his binds. Once he was free he instantly sat up and gripped his leg at the knee, gritting his teeth and fighting back tears. Before Arcade could even get close to his leg the teenager screamed in blind anger, swearing if anybody touched it they would meet a _very_ unpleasant death.

Arcade wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders, trying is best to hold him in place. It was all he could do without any type of first-aid.

"Go look around," The doctor ordered, his voice a lot calmer than it should have been "our packs should be around somewhere. We need my medical bag."

Boone nodded, reloading the revolver he had stolen from a dead guard before heading back out of the room. Arcade tightened his grip around Six as the smaller man's body went slightly limp.

"It's okay Six, it's okay."

"_FUCK YOU!_"

"…. Okay then."

Boone returned a minute later, his beret and glasses in hand along with everyone's packs. He set down the equipment and approached the two on the floor, carrying a small fabric bundle.

"They used all the chems we were going to sell along with all our stimpacks," He announced gruffly. He had to raise his voice to match Six's hoarse screaming. "But I found these."

He untied the bundle, revealing four doses of Med-X. He knelt down next to Arcade, giving Six a slightly un-nerved glance before locking eyes with the blonde doctor. Arcade nodded and reluctantly took one of the dosses from the fabric. The sight of the needle seemed to make Six even more restless, so Arcade quickly and skillfully injected the chem into the courier's limb.

Six instantly quieted down, and within a few seconds was totally silent. He leaned is head weakly against Arcades chest, his own heaving.

"Thanks." He muttered, his eyes only half open. Arcade stroked his hair gently, whispering for him to stay calm.

He was so high anything but calm was impossible at the moment.

Once Boone confirmed there were absolutely no more medical supplies left, he checked the map on a now half asleep Six's Pip-Boy.

"Only a few miles from Goodsprings." He grunted "We should move."

Arcade nodded and looked down to Six, who looked at him with groggy concern. The blonde smiled gently.

"It's a good thing you're light kid. I won't have to drag you."

"W-whaaa?"

Arcade grabbed Six's arm and swiftly pulled him over his shoulder. Instantly Six yelped and weakly struggled, his numb limb hanging like a dead weight.

"Arcade! Put me the fuck down!"

"No can do, unless you want to _walk_."

Six sighed heavily and went limp, his arms hanging down past the seat of Arcade's pants.

"If you fart Arcy, I will fucking kill you."

"Don't tempt me."


	3. Books, books, books

"He can't take five steps without bumping into trouble, can he?" Doc Mitchell laughed softly. He knelt down by Six's bedside, readying a super-stimpack. Arcade nodded and smiled as he watched Six sleep fitfully on the bed he only left a month ago.

"He asleep?"

Arcade nodded once again and motioned towards Six's leg. Doc Mitchell let out a small breath and attached it just below the knee, causing the device to let out a loud hiss. Once he was sure the needle was in correctly the older man loosely adjusted the belts so it would stay put. Arcade watched him closely, noting to himself what care the good doctor always put into his work.

"All done. His leg should be fine in a few hours. Let's hope he stays asleep until-"

Doc Mitchell was stopped mid-sentence by a small moan from Six. The seventeen year old mumbled something and rolled his head on the pillow, his face twitching. Quickly Arcade reached down and gently touched the side of the younger man's head, his fingers just brushing against thick chocolate brown hair. Seemingly assured, Six sighed in his sleep and settled down.

"Thank god," Doc mumbled quietly, smiling "if he woke there would be hell to pay."

Arcade let out an amused grunt, thankful himself. Six had many weird traits, but his biggest was a fear of needles. More than once during their travels Boone has had to hold the courier down while Arcade administered first-aid in the form of regular stimpacks.

Arcade and Doc Mitchell both tip-toed into the living room, though it didn't do them much good. By the time they made it to the couch the floors had let out so many creaks and moans it could have woken the dead. Thankfully Six was still weak from the mix of Med-X and screaming his head off. That was one of his more useful traits besides his knowledge of hand to hand combat and small guns.

He tired himself out easily.

"Thanks for the help Doc."

Doc Mitchell smiled and nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn overalls. After a few seconds Arcade looked around and frowned.

"Do you know where Boone went by any chance?"

"The fellow with the beret and glasses?"

"That would be the one."

The older man averted his eyes, thinking. Suddenly he brightened.

"Saw him head out right after you brought Six in." He shrugged casually "Didn't mention where he was goin' though. I'd try the saloon."

Arcade thanked him and headed towards the door, more curious than anything else. With no other patients to worry about, Doc Mitchell assured he would watch over Six.

XxXxX

Boone leaned further onto the counter, three beers already under his belt. When the woman tending bar- her name might have been Trudy, Boone didn't really remember- asked if he wanted another, he shook his head groggily. He leaned down and touched his forehead to the scuffed and worn wood, listing to the clicking of her heels as she moved about. It was either that or the music flowing from the jukebox, which didn't exactly match his taste.

He became aware of a second pair of footsteps and tensed, knowing who it was.

"Boone?"

Yup, he called it.

Arcade came up behind him and took the next stool. Boone kept his face hidden for a few extra seconds to compose himself before sitting up strait, his tinted sunglasses blocking his eyes as usual.

"Hows Six?"

Arcade smiled as he took off his thick rimmed glasses and brought up the end of his lab coat.

"Fine, just needs to sleep it off. He survived a bullet to the brain; I don't think a sledgehammer is going to do much."

He polished his glasses with end of his coat, only to smudge the lenses even more. Apparently he had forgotten how just plain _dirty_ you get while traveling the Mojave. He wasn't surprised though, killing raiders and pissed off geckos isn't clean work. Arcade sighed in defeat.

"Need some help there?"

Both men looked up, surprised by another voice. The whole saloon was deathly quiet, just like the town most of the time. Upon his first arrival Arcade thought the place looked like a ghost town.

It was the bartender. She was leaning over, her nose not far from Arcade's. She reached into the pocket of her faded per-war skirt and produced the rag she had been using to clean the counter.

"Thank you Trudy, I appreciate it." Arcade announced, taking the rag. He used it quickly to wipe away the grime before handing it back, freeing Trudy to go back to cleaning around the old wooden building. Once she had left the blonde doctor turned his focus back to Boone.

"Drowning your sorrows, I see."

"Mmmmm."

Arcade tilted his head curiously when he noticed the bloody rag tied awkwardly around the snipers left hand.

"What's that from?"

Boone sluggishly lifted his eyes towards Arcade's. Boone always seemed tired. Nobody ever really knew why. He always refused treatment from Arcade and Six just figured it would be best to leave it be.

"Cut myself cutting my binds. Happens."

He shrugged.

Arcade rolled his eyes. He reached into his lab coat pocket and brought out a recently purchased stimpack. He had just re-stocked before leaving Doc's. He motioned towards the snipers hand.

"Lemme see it."

Boone shook his head quickly. Arcade was pretty sure he rolled his eyes as well, though it was hard to tell under their tinted shields. He didn't think anybody even knew his eye color.

"Just let me see it," The blonde insisted, his usual bossy tone starting up "if you don't it'll just get infected in a few days. _Then _I'll _have_ to see it."

Boone sighed wearily and brought his hand up on the counter.

"Do I ever win with you?"

"Does anybody?"

"Point taken."

He put up no resistance as the doctor gently peeled off the bloody makeshift bandage. The cut underneath made Arcade wince slightly, but Boone just kept his usual poker face, even as the stimpack was injected.

"Thanks." Boone mumbled gruffly once Arcade was finished. Arcade kept his eyes on him, blue and friendly as always.

His gaze made Boone slightly uncomfortable, but he couldn't place why.

"We haven't talked much since we met." Arcade observed "I want to know more about you."

"You don't want to do that."

"I think I know what I want to do."

Boone's shoulders sagged a little. He motioned to a close by Trudy, who came over and served him another piss-warm beer from under the bar.

"You want to know more?" He asked calmly "Drink with me."

Arcade's eyes widened slightly. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You heard me, Gannon."

"I did hear you, but I'm not exactly liking what I heard."

His voice was soaked in humor, but at the same time spiked with nervousness. Boone picked up on that instantly. He let out a rough laugh, one that seemingly matched a ghouls.

"Don't drink Gannon?"

"Not usually, no. After seeing the drunks in Freeside, I don't really approve of the stuff."

"Let's give you a different perspective."

XxXxX

Arcade stumbled clumsily into the living room. He had taken a few seconds to ready himself outside, letting the cool night air sober him up a little.

However Six would not be fooled, he feared.

"Hey Arcy." The small courier greeted, not looking up. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, books of all different sizes and cover colors spread across the floor from Doc Mitchell's collection. He had a larger one- probably a text book- lying in his lap. He was studying it carefully, taking in each word. That was the best thing about Six in Arcade's opinion.

He loved books with an odd passion.

About fifty percent of his packs weight was books or papers he finds around the desert. He usually kept a book around until he's read it at least four or five times before he reluctantly got rid of it. Giving Six a book was the perfect and probably the only way to get on his good side.

"How's your leg?"

Six looked up from the page, his eyes shining.

"Fine, it's all healed."

"Watcha reading?"

"A pre-war text book. I think it's either math or science. I'm not all sure."

Arcade normally would have offered his own opinion, but was far too drunk at the moment. Math was looking like science and science was looking like math right now. He nodded and smiled.

"Cool beans."

Six raised an eyebrow. He smirked.

"Cool beans? How drunk are you?"

"Very. I'm going to bed. Don't stay up to late, the boogeyman'll get you."

"Who?"

"Never mind."


	4. Who can't love?

"Have you seen Six?"

If Boone had a cap for each time he'd been asked that question, he would probably be nestled comfortably in a mansion somewhere very, very far from here. The retired sniper peered up from the ground to a slightly concerned looking Arcade standing before him. When he only offered a useless raise of the eyebrow, the blonde sighed in frustration.

"You could at least give me a yes or a no. It would be appreciated, sunshine."

Boone realized then and there how much more he preferred the ground over Arcade.

"You may be the kid's mommy, but I'm not the daddy." Boone mumbled. He leaned backwards, his back resting against the next step leading up to Doc Church's front porch. He had been perched there for most of the morning, watching as settlers moved lazily about town in what seemed to be their own little worlds. "It's not my job to watch him."

Arcade tilted his head as he stared into the blankness of Boone's tinted sunglasses. His bright blue eyes were moving around, as if he were searching the younger man's face for something. Finally he spoke, a thin smile forming on his lips.

"I love how you pretend you don't care about him."

Boone…. Hadn't expected that.

"What?"

"Think about it Craig, were would you be right now if Six had never arrived in Novac?"

Boone didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about what he would be doing right now if Six had never came stumbling into town, his clothes thick with layer upon layer of blood and dirt from his dealing in Primm.

He didn't want to think about it because he knew Arcade was right in every way. Without Six Boone would still be in Novac, following the same routine of fitful sleep and dead end work he had been following for two years.

Without Six he would have never found out who sold the last thing he had in his life worth holding on to.

Boone tilted his head down, a sigh escaping his lips. He remained that way, letting the silence between the two build into an uncomfortable haze. Arcade finally broke the silence.

"He looks up to you."

Boone cringed. The thought of anybody looking up to him seemed so foreign.

"He shouldn't."

"But he does."

Arcade crossed is arms over his thin chest and kicked at an apple sized rock by his shoe.

"Something's wrong, but he won't tell me what. He's been quite. Every time I ask him what's bothering him he just tells me it's not worth getting into."

Boone looked up nodded. The trio had been in Goodsprings for a few days now, and even he had noticed how ever since he woke up Six hadn't been saying much. The seventeen year old had always offered his two cents, but now he was suddenly offering none. Even after Arcade had given him a new pre-war book he failed to even coax a smile out of the courier.

"So, you want me to find him?" Boone asked wearily.

"You can do what you want." Arcade replied, shrugging as if he really didn't care "But I'm just saying, he might open up to you."

Taking that as a definite yes, the sniper pulled his rifle over his shoulder and set off into town.

xxXXxx

After pestering not only Trudy but several settlers, Boone finally found out that Six had made his way up to the graveyard. Upon reaching the top of the steep incline leading to the small circle of land Boone spotted Six. He was up against the back of a grave marker, his legs tucked up by his chest with a book in his lap.

"You're a bitch to find." The sniper announced casually, walking up from behind. He stood a few inches away, towering over the smaller man.

"Yeah?" Six asked, deadpan. He didn't even bother looking up. Boone let out a heavy sigh and looked around awkwardly.

"So…. What are you reading?"

"A book, you know, with pages and shit."

"…. Great."

Boone kneeled down, the mid-day sun reflecting off his sunglasses.

"Are you alright?"

Six glanced up from the worn pages, surprise flickering in his eyes. _The fuck do you care?_ He wanted to ask, and Boone could tell how much effort it took for him to bite the words back.

"Yup, I'm fine."

He offered a deeply sarcastic grin before looking back to the pages, his face marked with the same disinterest as before he looked up. Boone furrowed his brow.

"You know how I can tell you're not really reading?"

Six visibly tensed. He looked up, trying to look as innocent as possible as he lazily scratched at the back of his neck.

"How?"

"The book is upside down."

Six's eyes widened. He laughed, giving a defeated smile.

"You, sir, have the eyes of a _hawk_." He proclaimed, flipping the book closed. He didn't even bother making up an excuse.

"And you, kid, have the brains of a gecko." Boone responded gruffly. He walked around and took a seat on the rocky ground next to Six, who picked the book up and tossed it Frisbee-style onto his nearby backpack.

"So, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing….. It's…." Six struggled for the right words "Not worth getting into."

Boone shifted and leaned forward, resting his arms over the tops of his knees.

"I'm going to start punching you every time you say that."

"What? That it's not worth getting into?"

The sniper landed a solid punch into Six's shoulder. It wasn't hard enough to bruise, but the younger man still let out a dramatic yelp.

"Oh! Abuse really necessary?"

"Don't know, is it? If I don't find out what's wrong with your crazy ass, Arcade won't be very happy."

Six looked away, the smile fading from his face. He shrugged.

"Do you really want to know?"

"No, I'm just up here because I like sitting in the sun with a bunch of dead people."

"….. Sarcasm?"

"Ah-huh."

The smile returned, though Six still looked upset. He yawned and focused his gaze over the edge of the graveyard.

"It's just…. Not knowing who I am bothers me. I hate not knowing." He stretched his legs out in front of him and turned his attention to his dust coated boots "Not knowing what my name really is, not knowing where I was born….. Not knowing if anybody is waiting for me to come back. Hell, what if there isn't anybody? What if nobody even cares if I'm alive? What if I have nobody?" He shook his head, causing thick pieces of brow hair to fall in front of his eyes. He just left them and leaned his head back. "I just can't remember….. I just want to know if anybody loves me. If anybody is missing me right now."

Boone nodded understandingly as Six finished. He let the silence between them hang until he noticed tears forming in the small courier's eyes, clouding their usual bright blue color.

"Honestly, kid, I can't tell you if anybody out there is missing you. I wish I could, but I can't. But you know what I can tell you?"

It took Six a few seconds to respond. He swallowed, trying his hardest to hold the tears back. He had already let a few go, the small drops spilling down his red cheeks.

"W-what?"

"We love you."

Six tilted his head, eyes wide and glossy. _Really?_ They asked desperately, though that question remained unasked. Instead he let out an uneasy laugh.

"Who are you kidding? You can't love."

Boone ignored the sarcastic comment and continued, his voice slightly lighter than usual.

"Arcade cares so much about you. I don't know _why_, but he does. You give him a sense of purpose. He thinks of you as a little brother."

Six raised an eyebrow, and Boone countered it with a reassuring smile. He clapped a hand onto the seventeen year olds thin shoulder.

"I don't know who else is out there looking for you, or if there even is anybody. But I _do _know that you will always have people here who care about you."

Six looked down, digesting the information. He laughed once to himself and looked up, the tears drying up as quickly as they came.

"What about you Boone? You really love me?"

"You said yourself I can't love, remember?"

"I'm not that good at remembering anymore, remember?"

Boone rolled his eyes. Six grinned and poked the older man in the side, causing him to twitch.

"C'mon Craig, you love me?"

"Don't push it."

"Can't live without me? I make life interesting?"

"… Yeah, you do. Without you I don't know where I would be right now." Boone sucked in a deep breath. He was going to hate himself for saying any of this in the morning. "I love you kid, just don't get used to me saying it."

Unable to contain himself, Six leaned over and tugged Boone into a hug. The sniper tensed and cringed, the contact making him uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I love you, now please get off me."

"Mmmkay."


	5. He's got this

"Enjoying your stay at the _lovely_ Lucky 38 casino?"

Veronica looked over her shoulder and smiled, her pearl white teeth seemingly glowing in the dark atmosphere of the casino floor. Arcade smiled back and leaned over the top of the sickly green colored couch, handing her a Nuka-Cola.

"Why, thank you my dear." She responded, her tone playfully sarcastic. Arcade laughed and vaulted clumsily over the top of the couch, just making it without catching his foot. He landed beside Veronica and settled in, popping the cap off his drink and pocketing it before turning his attention the scene playing out in front of them.

"Alright," Boone began; his voice strained with slight annoyance "You know how to hold this?"

Six nodded as he took the rifle from Boone's hand. He brought the gun up and balanced it the best he could, peering awkwardly into the scope at the empty glass bottles that had been set up along the railing.

"For the love of god, be _careful_." Boone pleaded as he stepped behind Six. He reached over and placed his hands over the courier's, adjusting them into the right positions. "Do you want me to hold it for the first few shots?"

Six scoffed and grinned, trying his best to hide the fact his thin arms were quickly growing tired from the heavy framed gun.

"Don't worry, I got this."

Boone shrugged and stepped back a few feet. He shook his head, trying to ignore the fact how comical the gun looked in Six's hands. He cleared his throat.

"Fire on three… Two…. One."

First came the crack from the gun going off, its sharp sound cutting through the thick air of the casino.

Then, came the thump of Six hitting the ground, the gun lying across his chest.

"Should've saw that shit coming." Six groaned. He sat up and blinked, a small stream of crimson flowing down his face from the gash now residing below his eye.

"Nice shot partner!" Victor called from his post by the elevator. He waved, his screen flickering with its usual pre-war cowboy image.

"SHUT THE _FUCK UP_ VICTOR!" Six shouted back as Boone pulled him to his feet. The robot only offered a pleasant "You got it partner!" before turning away.

"You have this, huh?"

Six turned to the retired sniper and shrugged, keeping a suspicious eye on Victor. He never trusted that thing, even though it technically saved his life.

"Fuckin' robot. Riding around on his damn_ wheel_ with that dumb-"

"Give it up Six, the robot isn't plotting against you."

Both men turned. Arcade and Veronica had joined them in the center of the casino floor, both sporting amused grins. Without a second thought Arcade pulled a clean rag out of the pocket of his dingy lab coat and pressed it under Six's eye. He laughed as the seventeen year old squirmed in pain and annoyance.

"Well, the day isn't over unless someone gets hurt, I suppose." He shrugged "It's just a suggestion, but maybe you should stick with energy weapons. Safer that way."

Six nodded and peered down, observing the almost fully conditioned laser pistol attached to his right hip.

"Suggestion considered."


	6. You're dumb!

"So, basically The Brotherhood never, _ever_, leaves their base thingy?"

Veronica nodded as she pulled her hood off, letting her short bunch of black hair fall clumsily down over the back of her neck. She tossed it aside and stared into the campfire.

"No, we don't. Don't get me wrong though, their my family, but I don't-"

"So, what if someone farts down there? You guys have vents or you just deal with it?"

Veronica turned to the young courier next to her, astounded. She was waiting for a smile or at least _something_ to indicate he was joking, but his light drenched face remained only curious. She shook her head slowly, trying to fight back her own smile.

"By the steel, you really are that stupid, aren't you?"

"Am not!" Six retoured, his tone sporting its usual adolescent high pitch. Veronica placed a hand over her mouth, only half-heartedly trying to hide her giggles.

"Oh, how intelligent of you. Your right, you're not stupid, you're _dumb._"

Six's mouth dropped open slightly. After a few seconds he grinned and crossed his arms over his narrow chest.

"No, you're dumb."

"No, my good sir, I believe you are the dumb one."

Six peered around the fire to where Veronica's hood laid idly in the sand.

"Well, your hood is dumb." He proclaimed, pointing. Veronica followed his gesture, eyebrow raised. She shook her head again, laughing.

"My hood, huh? What about that little toy pistol you have their? Dumb!"

Six's round blue eyes widened slightly. He looked down to the laser pistol attached to his hip, slightly hurt. He loved it like the son he never wanted.

"Yeah, well The Brotherhood is dumb!"

Veronica purposely dropped her jaw, mocking absolute shock. Her smile remained though, as well as her sarcastic tone.

"Oh, you did _not_ just go there!"

"Oh I did, watcha gunna do about it?"

Veronica gave an amused grunt and leaned back against the rock behind them. She giggled lowly and sighed, calmly chewing at her thumbnail. Six tiled his head curiously.

"What?"

"You know, Arcade told me something very… Interesting….. Just the other day about you."

"Huh?"

"He informed me that you are very, very, _ticklish_."

"What! No I'm-"

With quick and skillful movements Veronica lunged over the few inches between them and jabbed Six in the side. The seventeen year old yelped like a kicked dog and back peddled away, throwing up sand as he went.

"Hey! STOP IT!"

"MAKE ME!"

Veronica lunged again and caught Six by the shoulders. She kept one knee on his chest as she continued to jab at his sides. Six wailed a mix of swears and laughs as he called out to anybody for assistance.

"Should we stop them?" Arcade asked as he polished the lenses of his glasses. Boone peered up from his rifle to the idiotic scene playing out by the fire a few yards away from them.

"No." He murmured simply, turning back to his work. Then, he looked up again, noticing that Six was now managing to gain the upper hand. He knocked Veronica backwards and scrambled to pin her, just barely missing the crackling flames.

"Watch out for the fire!"

The two acknowledged this immediately and shuffled away as few inches, never breaking their endless brawl. Arcade turned to Boone and raised an eyebrow.

"Huh, didn't know you cared."

"I don't."

With that the sniper once again looked down to his gun. Arcade frowned, and then quickly grinned as an idea came to him. It would probably get him killed, but he convinced himself quickly that it was in the name of science.

"Boone?"

Boone grunted and peered up, his dark grey eyes just barley coming into view as his sunglasses sagged down his nose.

"Are you ticklish?"

The younger man lifted his head slightly, the ever so small spark of surprise running over his face.

"No." He replied sharply, not breaking eye contact. Arcade shrugged innocently and looked away, faking disinterest.

"Okay, just wondering."

Boone's left eye twitched. He stared Arcade down for a few more seconds before looking back down to finish up with his rifle. Once he was done he carefully set it aside.

"Ah!"

Arcade jabbed once at his side, causing him to involuntarily yelp. He spun around and met the blonde's eyes yet again, furious.

"Don't start Gannon."

"What? I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Craig."

"Gannon I swear to-"

Arcade jabbed him again, followed up by another. Boone tried to jump away, but tripped over his own gun and collapsed clumsily onto the ground.

"Fuck Gannon!" He swore, jumping up again. He managed to get to his feet this time, but lost his beret in the process. Amused, Arcade leaned over and grabbed it before settling himself back down.

"Well well," He sighed, twirling the hat around on his finger. "It appears as though the mighty have fallen."

"Give me it." Boone demanded, gritting his teeth.

"EY ARCY! TOSS IT!"

Both men turned, surprised. Veronica and Six had postponed their fight and where now standing at attention by the fire, watching. Six was waving his hands in the air and jumping up and down erratically. Arcade swiftly jumped to his feet and stuck his arm out, holding back a still furious and still hatless Boone.

"CATCH!"

Arcade sent the red beret sailing over to Six. The courier caught it with ease and instantly took off into the desert, prize in hand. Boone shoved a hysterically laughing Arcade aside and took off after him.

"DAMMIT KID!"

"CATCH THE COURIER, WIN A BERET! WHO WANTS IT?"


	7. What a mother wouldn't want in a son

Six let out a surprised scream as the tip of a baseball bat made contact with his left cheek, causing him to spin full 360 before collapsing to his knees.

"Ain't your day, kid."

Six glared up over his shoulder, growling. Freeside thugs were usually no problem, an easy kill, sitting ducks, if you're into hunting. But today there were just so _many_ of them. It seemed as if every damn chem addict in the city had come together under the common cause of pissing Six off to a new level.

"Don't call me kid." The courier commanded simply. The thug grinned, the weakness in his victim's voice pleasing him greatly. He brought the bat up and over his opposite shoulder, ready bash Six's head in.

"Like I said kid, it just ain't y-"

The bat was blocked mid swing by Six's forearm. He ignored the pain that shot through his arm and lunged forward, his knuckles connecting with the thugs face and probably into the chemical soaked brains behind it. The larger man stumbled backwards and tripped over a crack in the half-destroyed road, leaving him on his back.

"_Whose day ain't it?_" Six demanded, standing. He snatched the bloody baseball bat off the pavement and brought it up, his teeth bared in absolute fury. With swift movements he brought the wooden bat down on the disoriented man's face, almost certainly fracturing all the facial bones. The dirt and drug ridden man and screamed incoherently and squirmed as the wood met his face repeatedly, each time it coming back with more blood. He stopped moving after only a few seconds, but Six continued on for what seemed like hours, letting his rage out in dangerous waves as he ranted and swore.

He stopped dead when he felt a hand on his shoulder, as if it had hit his off switch.

"I think you proved your point."

Six lowered his head and swallowed, not turning. He let the bat slip from his fingers as he observed the damage he had caused.

The once thugs face looked like a beaten hunk of brahmin meat, his features now only replaced by blood and gashes.

"I-I think you're right."

Arcade tightened his grip on the younger man's shoulder, trying his best to be reassuring. He stepped up beside him, averting his eyes away from the beaten body.

"Are you going to be alright, Six?"

Six offered nothing but a blank stare, his icy blue eyes hollow.

"Six? Its ok-"

"I did what I needed to do. I don't fucking need you to tell me its _fucking okay!_"

The thin brunette turned swiftly, bumping shoulders with Arcade. The blonde doctor remained limp, allowing himself to be practically shoved out of the way. He kept silence, letting it hang as he trailed solemnly behind Six towards the New Vegas gates.

XxXxXxX

Boone walked quickly from the bathroom into the main room of the presidential suite. He stopped and turned curiously towards the elevator, its two hundred year old mechanics creaking with age as the elevator came up to the designated floor. He faced it and waited, expecting to watch Six come striding out like he owned the place (which in some respects he did) with some new piece of salvage or just plain junk in his hands.

Instead, the courier came practically bursting through the elevator doors, his face black and blue along with an eye that had totally swollen shut. He brushed past Boone before the sniper could even part his lips and shut himself up in the bathroom, the force from the slamming door rattling the walls.

"Something happen?" Boone asked, eyebrow raised. Arcade stepped out from the elevator himself and met the other man's eyes, his own hinted with sorrow.

"Something _did_ happen. I'm not sure exactly what, but something did."

Boone nodded once and peered towards the still shut bathroom door.

"You can bore me with the details later. I'm assuming you can handle it?"

Arcade nodded a few times slowly and smiled.

"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

"Clever."

Boone gestured towards the door before walking past Arcade and into the kitchen. Arcade listened briefly to the soft murmur of reassuring conversation between the younger man and Veronica before turning to the bathroom. He pressed his ear to the thin wood and knocked sharply three times.

"Six? You fall in kid?"

No giggles, no laughs, not even an amused grunt. Only the small courier's deadpan response.

"Come in….. I guess."

Arcade slowly opened the door as if he were checking his corners for enemy soldiers. Instead he thankfully found Six on the far side of the room, leaning heavily over the sink. He was simply staring into the basin, only occasionally sniffing. Arcade walked up beside him and waited.

"Yeah?" Six finally asked, looking up. Arcade winced slightly at the sight of his swollen and cut face. He managed a weak smile and grabbed a wash-cloth from the rack nearby.

"Let me help you out, eh? I don't trust you taking care of yourself."

Six only nodded, his good eye wide and watery. Arcade wet the cloth with cold water and gently pressed it to the younger man's other eye, causing him to flinch and grip the doctor's wrist.

"Careful, that fucking hurts man."

"I'm being careful, you big baby."

Six relaxed his grip, letting his arm fall down by his side. He winced and brought his other hand up, revealing how swollen it was.

"I think I broke something….. Again."

Arcade nodded and sighed.

"I suspected that. So, any particular reason you freaked out back there? Or is it just another one of those days?"

Six sighed heavily, his flat chest raising and falling. He lowered his head as much as he could without pressing his black eye more into Arcade's hand.

"It's just….. Fuck, I don't fucking know!"

"Use your words now, you can do it!"

Six growled, picking up on Arcade's heavy sarcasm. The blonde doctor smiled, but ended the teasing.

"Come on; just say what comes to mind. Do I look like the type to judge?"

Six raised an eyebrow, causing dull pain to flow through his face. He sighed again.

"It's just…. I try to be a good person Arcy, I really do. But… Sometimes I worry I just cant. What makes me any better than that damn thug?" He shook his head as Arcade took the cloth away and began to wet it again "I mean, I've killed. Hell, I've killed more than anyone. In cold blood, in self-defense, in every way! I've… Become what a mother wouldn't want in a son."

Arcade gently pressed the cloth back, hoping it was helping sooth the pain a little. He nodded understandingly and met Six's eyes, his own bright and inviting as usual.

"You have killed a decent amount; I won't deny that in any way. But, there've been many good deeds along the way as well."

"Yeah, like what?"

"Well, you helped Ringo in Goodsprings. You also helped Boone find out who sold his wife; you didn't have to do that. And then there's how much you've assisted the Followers, all of the NCR, the-"

"I get it Arcy, I've helped some people. But a murder who does good deeds is still a murderer. I'm still no better than some wasteland junkie. I got the drinking down pat. I'm sure chems aren't far behind….."

Arcade laughed, cutting off Six's words sharply. The courier tilted his head and narrowed his good eye.

"What? This shit isn't funny."

"Oh, it is."

"I'm missing the punch line."

Arcade stepped back, observing the sorry scene of Six leaning on the sink miserably. He chuckled again as he took a stimpack out of his coat pocket. He gently gripped the seventeen year olds wrist and brought his hand up. To tired and depressed to object the needle, Six only mumbled as Arcade injected the medicine, causing the swelling to go down drastically. The blonde finished and tossed the empty dispenser into a wastebasket. He took in a deep breath.

"You know what makes you different from all those mindless junkies out there?"

"Huh?"

Arcade stuck out his index finger and poked Six in the chest, right where his heart is.

"You feel remorse. You feel emotion. You know right from wrong. You would risk your own life for a stranger if you had too, and don't say you wouldn't."

Six swallowed, looking down at the hard wood floor. His breath hitched as tears began to slowly cascade down his cheeks. Finally desperate for comfort, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Arcade's shoulder. The doctor patted him gently on the back.

"You're tired, in pain, and fairly pissed. You just need to take a nap. And when you wake up, try to look at things differently. Preferably a happier kind of differently."

Six nodded silently, still leaning on Arcade.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Oh, I am right, you dare doubt me?"

Six finally laughed. It was more of a small grunt than a laugh, but it was progress.


	8. Fuck the rules

"So, this is a basketball?"

"Pretty much."

Six raised an eyebrow, studying the ancient seeming pre-war ball. He ran his fingers over it, the rubber feeling foreign to him. After the war almost anything made out of rubber had rotted away, so the fact they had found a perfectly preserved basketball up in the suite came to Six as a shocking surprise.

Arcade took the worn ball from his hands and balanced it up on one finger, spinning it as he explained the rules of the game. Six really only caught half of it, his attention occupied by the regular and yet still disturbing sight of Victor watching over them, his screen flickering with that creepy smiling cowboy.

Damn robots.

"I fucking hate being in the casino." Six murmured bitterly. Arcade let out an amused grunt before passing the ball, causing the smaller man to stumble backwards as it hit his chest and landed in his hands.

"Try to focus on this; I think you'll have fun with it. My father taught me it when I was little."

Six shrugged indifferently and slammed the ball into the ground, sending it bouncing up over his head. He jumped up and caught it before looking to the makeshift basketball hoop Arcade had thrown together out of a thin piece of scrap medal, some nails, and an amusing amount of duct tape.

"Okay, let's score a home run or whatever."

"… That's baseball Six."

"Both sports are dead Arcy, does it really matter?"

Arcade sighed heavily before starting the game up. He started a little too fast, rapidly firing directions at Six as he kept missing the hoop by what seemed like miles.

"Nice shot butterfingers. You were almost close that time… Almost."

Six rolled his eyes, the doctor's sarcasm slowly eating away at his patience. He hurled the ball at Arcade's chest.

"You try asshole."

Arcade caught the ball with ease and made a perfect shot, the ball falling effortlessly through the hoop. He gave Six a look of triumph, who groaned loudly in response.

"This game sucks. The hells the use of it?"

Arcade shrugged calmly.

"For fun?"

"There's no blood. No blood, no fun. Why not just punch the person and take the damn ball?"

"That would be against the rules."

"Fuck the rules!"

Arcade rolled his eyes as he retrieved the ball. He balanced it against his hip as he grabbed his lap coat off a nearby chair.

"So, is it safe to assume you don't want to learn anymore?"

Six remained silent, thinking his words over. He couldn't help but notice the disappointment is Arcade's voice.

"Well…. Yeah. But….. Maybe we could read over some of the math textbooks I found later? You could teach me division or something."

He already knew division, but he didn't know what else to say. Arcade shrugged casually as he headed for the elevator.

"Suppose we could."

He left Six standing there, feeling like an ass. The courier sighed in frustration.

"Great, now I have to make it up to him."

XXxxXX

"I never realized how much shit I have in here." Six mumbled to himself in amazement. He was practically _inside _his closet, throwing random items across the room as he searched for a certain magazine on sports he had purchased from Cliff in Novac a while ago. So many useless things were cluttering the small space. Teddy bears, baseballs, lead pipes, conductors, Cook-Cook's head…

"I should really get around to turning this thing in." Six laughed, kicking the head wrapped in three bloody towels and a thick layer of duct tape. He shrugged and nudged it away with his boot, not really desiring to touch it.

"Ah-Ha!"

Under the head he spotted his prize. He snatched the slightly bloodied magazine up and headed to the guest room.

"Hey Boone!" The courier whispered, tip-toeing up to the snipers bed. The older man mumbled something and rolled over, the blankets and sheets tangled around his legs. Six poked at his ribs stubbornly.

"You can sleep later, wake the fuck up!"

Finally Boone's eyes shot open. He sharply rolled over onto his back, surprised.

"Please be a nightmare." He groaned, rubbing his eyes. Six shook his head quickly and grabbed Boone's wrist, pulling him up into a sitting position.

"Nope, this is real as it gets sadly. Mr. Boone, we have a mission!"

Boone raised an eyebrow, eyes still only half open.

"And what might that be?"

"To somehow figure out and play basketball."

Six held up the magazine and motioned towards Veronica's bed. She was curled up in the center, Rex tucked under one arm. The dog's robotic brain gave that whole side of the room an eerie glow. Boone took in a deep breath and nodded.

"I hope you have a somewhat legit reason for doing this."

"Yeah, somewhat."

"One question."

"Huh?"

"Why is that magazine bloody?"

"… Don't ask."

XXxxXX

Arcade shifted slightly as he felt someone poking him. He groaned and shuffled away, almost sending himself off the bed.

"C'mon Arcy, time to get up!"

The blonde doctor opened one eye. Six was leaning over him, grinning.

The grin worried him.

"What? What could you possibly want this early?"

"Boone was cleaning his gun and accidently shot himself in the head."

"… WHAT?"

Arcade shot strait up, eyes wide. Six laughed and grabbed his shoulder, keeping him from running out of the room.

"Arcy! Arcy! I'm just kidding! Damn, don't shit yourself."

Arcade stared at him for a few seconds, and then rolled his eyes. He stifled a grumble of swears before laying back down, his head buried in the pillow. Six laughed and poked at his friends head.

"You gotta get up doc; we have a surprise for you."

"I'm too old for surprises, can't you just leave me be?"

"You're not old! You're like what, forty?"

Arcade brought his head up, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"I'm thirty-five, thank you!"

"If you say so."

Six grabbed the older man's shirt sleeve and began pulling him out of bed. The blonde groaned miserably before finally agreeing to get dressed and follow Six downstairs.

XXxxXX

Arcade stumbled after Six out of the elevator, still pulling his lab coat on. His sky blue eyes widened in surprise when he found both Boone and Veronica waiting for them in front of the makeshift hoop, Rex sitting patiently at their feet.

"What are you people up to now?"

A small smile tugged at Boone's lips. He took the basketball he was balancing on his hip and passed it to Arcade.

"Six said you wanted to play basketball," Veronica informed. Instead of her usual scribe robes she was wearing a spare pair of Boone's cargo pants and a shirt, her short black hair tucked under a pre-war cap. "So we set up for a game. It sounds fun!"

Arcade grinned, his eyes shining.

"This is great guys, but you don't have to-"

"No, we don't." Boone responded, cutting him off "But were going to, so get your ass over here before I change my mind."

Arcade laughed as Six pressed a hand on his back, pushing him onto the court.


	9. Fort shenanigans

"Dear god please let him make the right decision."

"O, ye have little faith."

Arcade looked away from the graying sky to Veronica, nervously biting at his fingernails. He sighed and wrapped his lab coat tightly around himself, the piecing gaze of the hundreds of Legionaries around them making him feel vulnerable.

"Ease up Arcy," Veronica murmured calmly "he'll do fine."

Arcade shook his head; peering at the tent flap Six had just disappeared into a few minutes ago. For months the courier had been traveling and fighting to get here, his thirst for revenge against the man who had taken away his memories growing daily into a bitter itch he couldn't scratch.

Now Arcade was terrified he was going to fuck it up.

"I'm just afraid he's going to make the _wrong_ decision."

Veronica shook her head and shrugged. She looked down at her hand and flexed it, thinking. She looked like she had forgotten something vital.

"I hate to sound selfish here, but I miss my power-fist."

Arcade laughed softly. He nodded and shuffled his feet, kicking at the dry soil.

"Boone's taking care of it. I kind of regret leaving my ripper with him too, but you can't exactly conceal something that big and sharp."

Veronica nodded in agreement. She peered over her shoulder, noting how many Legionaries seemed to be staring at them around the camp.

"How far away do you think Boone made camp?"

"As far as he could stomach. Too bad he couldn't come, were just having so much-"

Arcade stopped and yelped as something bumped into the back of his legs. He turned sharply and looked down, expecting to see one of the Legions mongrels or maybe a small child. Instead he only saw the flash of something hazy in the air and heard the shuffling of feet in the loose soil. The sound lasted a few seconds before it faded down the hill.

"What was that?" Arcade asked, eyebrow raised "You saw that, right?"

The woman nodded as she peered past Arcade curiously. She grunted lightly.

"I saw it, but I don't know-"

"FUCKING RUN!"

Now, hearing those two words put together wasn't foreign to Arcade. In fact, they were practically Six's catch phrase.

And when you heard them, you better fucking run.

He already had a hand on Veronica and was pulling her for cover by the time Six came bursting out of the tent, an explosion of gunfire behind him.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Arcade demanded as they sprinted. Luckily by the time the rest of the camp had figured out what was going on, they had already made it to the large iron gate. Veronica let out a series of small yelps as Arcade kept one arm around her, pulling her from place to place like a rag doll while dodging gunfire. This was the first real time she had been under heavy fire while traveling in what Boone had named "Six's misfit circus"

Veronica had thought it was funny, but Six didn't even know what a circus was.

"I SET BENNY FREE!" The courier screamed back as he vaulted over a rock for cover. Arcade followed, almost throwing Veronica over it as well, who was totally useless without her power-fist. Legionaries gathered around them, all focusing fire on the rock. Arcade pulled his plasma defender from the hidden pouch in his coat as Veronica did the same with a 9mm from under her robes.

"WHA-…. WHY? ARE YOU INSANE?" Arcade demanded, returning fire. Green blobs of plasma began flying in every direction, finding their marks and burning holes in the Legionaries armor. And, in some unlucky cases, their bare skin. Veronica tried her best to return fire as well, but she had very little training with guns. Most of her shots missed, bouncing off rocks or the ground.

She looked over at Six. The seventeen year old had his hand entirely down his pants, gunfire chipping away at the rock just above his head as he swore continuously under his breath. He noticed her questioning looks and blushed.

"I…. Ah… My gun is…. You know…"

"….. You put it in your pants?"

"WHERE THE FUCK ELSE COULD I PUT IT?"

"Children!" Arcade interrupted as he ducked down to reload "We need to get out of here! Now!"

Six popped his head up, letting out an annoyed "No shit!" before finally tearing the laser pistol out of the holster he had hidden in his pant leg. He let a whole energy cell loose, the thin red beams hitting their marks. One Legionary even took a shot to the eye, the laser only leaving a charred black hole where the dark brown orb had been.

"The river!" Arcade called. Both Six and Veronica turned anxiously and followed Arcade's gestures towards the cliff leading to the water below. The scribe shook her head frantically as Six nodded eagerly. The courier sprang up, weaving around rocks before jumping strait off into the river.

"C'mon!" Arcade coaxed, grabbing Veronica by the sleeve. He sprang up as well and tugged her along the same path Six had taken, bringing them to the edge.

Where Veronica stopped dead, digging her heels into the ground.

"MOVE WOMAN!"

Arcade shoved her with all his weight, sending her sprawling into the air. Arcade jumped in right after her, landing into the frigid waters only seconds after. Both popped up instantly, the current washing them away as they struggled to swim. Well, Arcade tried to swim; Veronica simply flailed her arms helplessly. She couldn't swim; something Arcade knew but never thought would be a problem.

Wrong again.

The blonde reached over and grabbed her by the back of the robes, pulling her into him. She latched onto him, causing them both to go under. After what seemed like an eternity Arcade finally pulled them back up, gasping.

"ARCADE!"

Arcade craned his neck. He spotted Six on the bank of the river not far ahead of them, his clothes pinned to him from the water. He gripped the side of a rock and leaned out, offering his hand over the water. The current slowing, Arcade managed to haul himself and Veronica over just close enough to grip Six's hand. Though he was small, the brunette was just barely able to drag his half-drown companions out of the water.

"I… think…. I swallowed a fish." Veronica gasped, hacking up water. Arcade finally let go of her and dragged himself weakly to his feet, his vision blurred without the glasses the waves had washed away. Six patted him on the back, trying to ease his coughing as he to hacked up water.

"You guys okay? I-"

Arcade grabbed him by the front of the jacket and began to shake him furiously.

"Asinus Stultissimus! _Morologus es!"_

"Speak English man! ENGLISH!"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

Veronica pulled herself to her feet, leaning on a nearby rock for support. She pulled her hood off, causing her soaking back hair to tumble down in front of her face.

"Put him down Arcade, shaking him won't help."

The enraged doctor set Six down and sighed, causing small pains to shoot in his chest from swallowing so much water.

"You better have a _damn good _reason for doing that!"

Six shrugged, lost for words. He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

"I just couldn't kill him."

"Benny?" Veronica asked, joining them. Six nodded slowly and continued rambling, almost to himself.

"He was tied up and everything. But I just _couldn't_. I gave him one of my stealthboys and….."

Arcade nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. He ran a hand over his dripping blonde hair, pushing it back away from his forehead.

"That explains what bumped into me. But why? After all this, why just let him go?"

Six shrugged. He shivered miserably as a gust of wind blew by them.

"I don't know… It just felt wrong, like it wouldn't have made me any better than him."

"How poetic." Veronica mumbled sarcastically, still traumatized. She wasn't mad in any sense though, she very rarely got mad over anything. Noticing the confused and distressed look and Six's face, Arcade's own softened. He sighed again and put a hand on the couriers shoulder.

"Well, we can figure this out later. Let's just get moving and find Boone before more Legionaries come."

Six tried to compose a comply, but Arcade quickly hushed him and smiled. Veronica laughed and smacked Six playfully upside the head.

"Just save it and get moving before we leave you."

**Sorry this isn't very good. I'm not good at writing any kind of action. I also couldn't remember if The Fort is right by the river or not since I haven't played New Vegas in a while. But, I really wanted to write this so I decided to give it a shot. Feel free to criticize. **


	10. Feel free to ignore the blood

"RUN YOU SKIRT WEARING PUSSYS! RUN FROM THE MIGHTY SIX!"

Legionaries took off like as if they were on fire down the hill, skidding desperately in the rocky soil as they fled. Well, they weren't _on_ fire, but they were sure as hell _under _fire_._

Gotta love a cheesy pun.

Six skidded to a stop at the top of the hill just by the entrance to Bitter Springs, assault rifle raised. He let a clip loose, using the fleeing warriors as target practice. A few got away, but most caught a bullet before they could get very far.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT!"

Six spun around mid-reloading, surprised. A stray Legion soldier had managed to get behind him. The man was dripping blood onto the sand from holes and rips in his armor, the moonlight illuminating his rage twisted face. He lunged, a crimson smeared machete in hand. He didn't make it far though.

It's hard to cut somebody without a head.

Six looked up as the man's head exploded like a hunk to meat stuffed with dynamite. Boone appeared on the ridge above him, reloading. The courier gave him a thumbs up and grinned before heading back towards the makeshift gate made out of parts from a scavenged bus. Boone returned the gesture with a weak wave before looking over the recently saved camp.

Arcade and Cass where below, helping the confused and terrified civilians. The middle aged doctor had one small child in hand and several others scurrying around his feet, barley able to follow his directions as he coaxed them some place safe. The child in his arms was fighting against him, demanding to be put down. He even managed to get a few shots at Arcade's ribs before he was finally set down inside a tent.

Boone wasn't really focusing on Arcade though. He found himself more compelled by Cass. The red head was helping an older man along who had been shot in the arm during the attack. He was moaning and bleeding profusely, causing blood to soak through her shirt and jacket. She simply ignored this though, keeping her focus on dragging the man to the medical tent. Once he was in the medic's hands she still didn't stop to acknowledge the deep crimson stains, she simply took off to assist others, her boots sending up dust as she sprinted.

Boone admired that. He found himself watching her until she was out of sight, a small smile pulling at his lips. Once she was gone he snapped out of it, cold reality breaking apart his comforting daydreams as if it were a sledgehammer. He shook his head, trying to push any thoughts he was having away as he began sliding down the cliff and back down to earth.

XXxxXX

Boone shoved his hands in his pockets. He picked his pace up, listing to the mix of terrified rambling and just plain screams as he made his way to a nearby tent. There wasn't much he could do in the way of helping, there were plenty of soldiers for that. He had already done the hard part of keeping them all alive, now all he wanted to do was be alone.

Well, maybe in a way he really didn't want to be alone. The thought of just sitting in the dark with only his mind didn't really appease him, but alone was familiar. In a way he felt safest when he was alone.

The tent was empty except for one soldier. He was bent over a large wooden crate, the clanging of bottles sounding as he rifled through it. He couldn't have been much older than Six, probably even younger.

That bothered Boone for some reason.

"You people keep booze around here?"

The young soldier spun around, two full bottles of vodka in hand. A relived look came over his face when he realized it was only Boone and not his commanding officer. He made his way to the tents thin metal door, handing the retired sniper a bottle as he passed.

"Here, were usually not supposed to drink on duty, but after all this shit they can kiss my NCR ass."

Boone nodded once, watching the young man leave. Once the kid was gone he sighed heavily and collapsed down onto the wooden crate. He studied the clear alcohol for a few seconds, then shrugged and bit the top of the bottle off with his teeth. A trick he learned from Six.

"That's hot, nothing better than a man who can bite things."

Boone looked up, the stopper still between his teeth. There in the doorway stood Cass, her hands crossed over her chest. She had removed the jacket, but still wore the bloody shirt.

"Ah, thanks." He murmured, spitting the stopper out. He took a small swig before setting the bottle down beside him. "Need help?"

Cass shook her head.

"Everything's under control. Well, putting control loosely. Everyone's safe and Arcade's running the show."

Boone nodded. She remained in the doorway, her blue eyes looking him over. She had one of those smiles, like she knew something you didn't. The sniper shifted uncomfortably.

"You look lonely." She observed softly. She didn't have her usual hard tone. It was friendlier, something nobody else had really ever heard before. Boone shrugged.

"I like lonely."

"Wow, you are one sad motherfucker, aren't you?"

Boone laughed quietly.

"Be lying if I said I wasn't." He stopped; averting his eyes shyly for a second before finally meeting hers "You…. Want to sit down?"

Cass tilted her head and pushed a few strands of orange hair from her face.

"Would that bother you?"

"If that bothered me, I wouldn't offer."

She shrugged and nodded before joining him on the supply crate. She picked up the bottle of vodka and took a few gulps from it before handing it to him. He took a few as well before setting it back down in the small space between them.

"Haven't talked with you much," Cass observed, looking straight ahead. Boone grunted in response.

"Talking isn't one of my talents."

"I've noticed."

Cass wasn't the friendly type. The fact she was now sitting here trying to coax conversation made Boone suspicious. He turned to her, eyes hidden behind tinted glasses.

"Is there something you want to ask me?"

The red head shrugged harmlessly before turning to him.

"More like something I'd like to know… Tell me about your wife."

Boone tensed. He didn't see that question coming. He swallowed and shook his head, looking down.

"Carla is dead; I don't see that use of talking about her."

"I see the use, that's why I asked."

Boone continued to stare down at the dirt. He grabbed the bottle again and took another swig.

"What use could you possibly see?"

"I'm curious."

Boone wasn't sure what to say to that. Every fiber in his brain screamed at him to keep silence, avoid eye contact, and run away as fast as possible.

"What do you want to know?"

For some reason, his heart was telling him otherwise.


	11. Enjoy the cake, Skipper

"Hey Arcy, you should come with me to Gomarrah."

Arcade looked over the top of his book, eyebrow raised. He shook his head slowly before looking back down.

"No." He murmured simply. Six laughed and leaned over on the couch, poking at Arcade's ribs.

"C'mon, they have male strippers too!"

Arcade felt his face get hot. He slammed the book shut and rolled his eyes.

"You're insane. Stay away from there if you know what's good for you."

"I like the place; they're the only casino with good booze besides the Tops." The courier sighed, grinning "And the _girls_…."

Arcade groaned loudly, cutting Six off. He shook his head again and opened the book back up.

"Fine, have your little horn-ball fun. But when you get herpes, don't come crying to me."

"… What's herpes?"

The blonde doctor froze, a half turned page between his slender fingers. He slowly turned to Six.

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"Yes."

"Are you _sure_?"

"… Indeed?"

Arcade motioned for the younger man to lean in closer. He put the book down and whispered something into Six's ear.

"W-what? EWWWW! NO NO NO!"

Six sprang up from the couch like it was electrified, a look of utter horror on his face.

"Six!" Veronica suddenly called from the kitchen "Can you come help us for a second?"

"YES! DEAR GOD YES!"

He took off across the hall; eyes still the size of dinner plates. On the way out of the living room he passed by Boone, who noticed his distress and looked to a giggling Arcade.

"What's his problem?"

"I told him that if he got herpes, his penis would turn purple and fall off."

"… I'm almost certain that's not what happens."

"Shhhhhh. He doesn't know that."

Boone shrugged carelessly and shoved his hands in his pockets. He raised an eyebrow to the sound of pots and pans clanging loudly in the kitchen.

"What are they doing in there?"

Arcade smiled. He took off his glasses and began to polish them on the end of his lab coat.

"I wouldn't know." He slid them back on "But, before I forget, happy birthday Craig."

Boone visibly tensed. He turned to the doctor, grey eyes wide behind their tinted windows.

"How did you know it was my birthday?"

"You told me while we were drinking together in Goodsprings. Oh, the wonders of alcohol. She's a cruel mistress, isn't she Craig?"

Boone gritted his teeth. He sighed heavily, annoyed by Arcade's triumphant smile.

"Anything _else_ you know?"

"I also know your favorite color, how you like your coffee and…" The blondes smile turned to a grin "Your middle name, _Francis_…."

Boone felt his ears get hot. He rolled his eyes, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

"Just don't share any of that with anybody, especially the birthday part."

"Why? If you don't mind me asking."

"I do mind you asking."

The sniper met Arcade's bright blue eyes. They had that judging look to them, the one that always seemed to bother him. The look that said: _Oh, you mind? You're obviously insecure. Didn't you're mother love you enough?_

"I just don't want a party," Boone mumbled, feeling small under Arcade's gaze "it's not worth celebrating."

Arcade nodded and picked his book back up, losing interest.

"Okay, my lips are sealed."

"Thank you."

"Ey Boone!" Cass called from the kitchen "Get your ass in here! We need you for something!"

Boone jumped a little at the sound of her voice. Slowly he turned and began walking across the hall. He knew something was up when he heard Arcade get up and follow behind him, but for some reason his legs just kept carrying him.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Veronica, Six, Rex, Cass, and ED-E where all gathered by the long dinner table, cheering. In the center sat a large cake, looking like it was filled with wild fruit or something else colorful.

"Guess you should have said you didn't want a party sooner." Arcade teased, stepping beside the sniper.

Boone's eye twitched.

"Oh, come on you sad sack of crap," Six urged, grabbing Boone by the wrist and pulling him the rest of the way into the room "at least get drunk with me."

"…. Fine."

XXxxXX

After promptly getting drunk and standing around awkwardly for a about an hour Boone decided he had enough social contact to last him a lifetime. After giving a short thank you speech to everybody (which was interrupted with several boos from a drunken Six) he headed for the elevator, trying his best to not look like he was desperately trying to get away. He traveled down to the casino floor and sat on the thick white railing by the main door. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, watching the thick wisps of smoke float up into the Luck 38's thick, dusty air.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard someone else coming down in the elevator. He guessed it was Arcade, ready with another set of personal questions and judging stares.

His eyes widened slightly when Cass stepped out, a plate of cake balanced in one hand. She swiftly walked over to him, smiling warmly.

"You didn't even try it, ya fucker. You know how long it took to make this shit?"

Boone felt an involuntary smile pull at his lips as he stubbed out his cigarette. He shrugged as she joined him, leaning against the railing.

"Cake isn't really my favorite."

"Guess what? Don't care. Try it at least."

She lifted the fork off the plate and stabbed it into the cake, bringing a decent sized bite up to Boone's lips. He raised an eyebrow, still smiling.

"Go on," Cass insisted. Boone sighed and leaned forward, taking the bite off the fork. He remained forward, chewing it. He grimaced, not really liking the taste. It was too swe-

"AH!"

Cass shoved the whole plate right into Boone's face, making an audible _squish_ as it made contact. The sniper froze, bits of cake falling down his face and onto his shirt and pants.

"I thought it was pretty good." Cass announced sweetly, licking the cake off her fingers. She laughed once, observing a still frozen Boone for a few seconds before starting back towards the elevator. "Happy birthday, Skipper."

Once she was gone Boone carefully pulled his sunglasses off. He wiped the cake off his face with his hand, revealing that involuntary smile that refused to leave


	12. I'm not a therapist

For some reason, this particular dream always had a blank background. He doesn't really know why. Maybe it's because his mind simply isn't creative enough to give such a scene a specific place. Maybe it's because the background doesn't matter, only what's happening.

Either way, it gets more disturbing every time he sees it.

He's surrounded by black, as if he's the last piece of matter in the universe. No floor, no ceiling, no walls, nothing. He's just standing on nothing, spine straight with his hands in his pockets. It oddly feels normal at first, as if the abyss around him had always been there, un-noticed.

"Craig?"

His stomach lurches, his jaw clenches. He knows who's behind him. It's the same every damn time.

"Oh, Craig?"

That sing-song voice calling out to him, her tone so light and inviting. Any other person would turn right away, that voice seeming so comforting. He, on the other hand, doesn't move. He knows what's waiting for him. No beautiful goddess was going to greet him.

"Craig? Don't you want to see the baby?"

It's always the mentioning of the baby that tricks him. He had been so excited to be a dad. He never showed it, but it was there. That little twinge of joy that pulled at him every time he saw her folding baby clothes or buying those stupid dino toys from Cliff at the gift shop.

He turns, swallowing, hoping that same disturbing image wasn't coming towards him.

He's sadly disappointed.

Carla's striding in his direction, somehow going fast but slow at the same time. It seems like it takes hours for her to reach him, allowing him to take in her whole image. He first recognizes the dress, the one she wore on their wedding night. The bright yellow one with the flowers, the one that he thought looked odd for a wedding but never questioned it. The dress is pristine, a blaring opposite to who is wearing it.

Half of Carla's face is rotted away, the grimy white bone visible in places where the long dead flesh had faded away. She's carrying a little fabric bundle in her thin arms. Once she reaches a certain distance, as if on cue, the bundle begins to cry. It wasn't the cry of a normal infant. It wasn't even a cry, more of a pained screech. A screech so loud he winces, lowering his head. He doesn't cover his ears though. He feels as if he needs to hear it.

As if he deserves to hear it.

Carla finally reaches him and stops, her mangled face only inches from his. The bullet hole in her forehead stares at him like a third eye. It was a clean shot, probably the cleanest he had ever taken. Silently she reaches over, her thin fingers gripping the end of the bundle. She gently begins to pull it, opening the bundle to reveal…..

Nothing, it always stops right there.

Boone shot upright in bed, air rushing noisily from his lungs. He gasped once before clamping a hand over his mouth, forcing himself the breath through his nose.

"Fuck," He murmured, allowing himself to breath silently through the mouth. He pried his eyes open wide and peered around the thick darkness, just barely making out the sleeping form of Cass in the next bed, one arm laying lazily off the mattress. Veronica was in the bed next to her. Arcade was probably sleeping in Six's room, or maybe on one of the couches.

Boone shook his head and sighed, rubbing his sore eyes. He tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but found himself tangled in the sheets. He swore under his breath and struggled, unable to free himself blind. Suddenly the door to the guest room creaked open, followed by a bright blue tinted light.

It was Rex.

The dog poked his head in, panting happily at the sight of Boone. He pushed the door open the rest of the way and ran up to the bed, sitting obediently at the snipers side.

"Nice timing," Boone sighed as he used Rex's creepy yet useful brain light to untangle his legs. Once he was free the dog barked, excited.

"Shhhhh, don't wake anybody."

Rex lowered is head and whimpered, stamping his front feet impatiently. Boone stood and stretched his back, sending out a few pistol-shot cracks.

"Six forget to feed you again?"

Rex perked up, the word "feed" exciting him once again. Boone nodded and started for the kitchen, the robot dog restlessly at his heels. He pushed open the thin metal door.

"Veronica?"

Sure enough, there sat Veronica at the kitchen table, a steaming cup loosely resting between her fingers. She looked up from the cup and smiled, pushing a strand of dark hair from her face.

"A little late to be up, isn't it?"

"….. Sorry."

The scribe laughed lightly, beckoning for him to come in. Between her and Rex pushing insistently at his legs he really didn't have much of a choice. He kept his head down as he grabbed a piece of Brahmin meat from the fridge and dropped it into Rex's dish, sending the animal into a feeding frenzy.

"Well, you look like shit." Veronica announced, still smiling. Boone turned to her, feeling naked without his glasses or beret. He only managed a weak "thanks," which made her laugh again. She pulled out the chair next to her and patted the seat, beckoning for him to sit. He complied, practically falling onto the old wooden piece of furniture. If he refused it would only lead on more that he had a problem.

"Here," She slid the cup over to him "it'll make you feel better. Its tea."

How she knew he was feeling down in the first place Boone really didn't know. Maybe it was woman's intuition. Maybe he really _did_ look like shit.

"Thanks,"

He took the cup and lifted it to his lips slowly. But, once it made contact he jumped the gun, drinking too fast. He grimaced as molten hot liquid trickled down his throat. Veronica placed a hand over her mouth, half-heartily trying to mask her giggles.

"I didn't think I had to tell you it's hot."

Boone set the cup down as gently but quickly as possible. He took in a breath, trying to sooth his now burnt tongue.

"Sorry, I'm a little off tonight."

"I noticed, have a bad dream?"

"….. It's nothing; let's just say I won't be sleeping for a while."

Veronica nodded, knowing better than to push the issue. She leaned back in her chair and stretched, yawning. She turned to him, still smiling.

"You know, I bet we could find some good booze around here, even at this hour. I'm pretty sure The Tops is still open. Let's go drown some sorrows, eh?"

Boone shook his head gently, chuckling.

"Not going to use that therapy bull on me, are you? I get enough of that from Arcade."

Veronica leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. She thought for a few moments, and then shook her head with assurance.

"Mmmmm, therapy bull? No. I'm not a therapist. But, I _am_ a bored young lady who would _love_ to get a drink."

Boone blinked at her, not sure how to respond. How could he say no? Saying no would just make him feel worse. He smiled playfully.

"Fine, but you're paying."

"Oh, how gentlemen of you."


	13. Mi amigo

"Hey you! Over here!"

Both Raul and Six stopped mid step, surprised. Beckoning screams weren't exactly uncommon in Freeside; in fact, they were part of the ruined town's culture. Its hostile, drug ridden culture, as Six was so much reminded. More often than not the screams were mere traps, drawing do-gooders and supposed super men to their dooms among the piss soaked and rat ridden alleyways. But, on the other hand, it could be exactly the opposite. It could be that some homeless man or defenseless woman _really was _in danger, only to be glared at disapprovingly by the wary and the cautious.

How many times he had just let somebody get raped or murdered because he was being too careful sometimes kept Six up at night.

Than man calling to them looked just like all the other locals, dirty and malnourished. Probably missing teeth too, maybe even a few fingers from a fight he was lucky enough to win. The man was jumping up and down fanatically, waving.

"Could be a trap boss," Raul murmured lowly, his tone hinted with an unsaid warning. Six nodded a few times, keeping his eyes on the man.

"Or, it could be someone who needs help. What do you think?"

The ghoul shrugged indifferently and unclasped the top to his revolvers holster, resting one hand over it. Ready and efficient, just like he always was. The whole "I'm blind and useless" routine was total bullshit, and Six knew it well.

"Could be boss, could be. Either way, at least it'll give us something to do."

Six smiled and nodded again; glad he had brought just him and not any of the others. There would have been too much debating with anybody else, Raul always just remained neutral when it came to decision making.

"Okay then, let's see what he wants. Maybe he's just looking for a handout of some shit."

"Lead the way, boss."

The man grinned as he watched the two approach, proving the earlier theory that he was missing teeth. About half of them, to be exact. Six was pretty sure he was missing an index finger on each hand as well. How that managed to happen, he really didn't want to know. The man scurried into the ally he was standing in front of and they followed, keeping an eye out.

No others, well lit, and all the guy had was a scratched and worn pool cue strapped to his back. What could happen? Thinking like that was deadly in the Mojave, as Six would so quickly learn.

"Check it out, between the dumpsters there."

Six's blue eyes widened a little, mouth open slightly in surprise. It's not that he wasn't familiar with the sight of a rotting corpse. Hell, the smell didn't even really bother him anymore, which Arcade usually identified as more disturbing than convenient. No, it wasn't the corpse.

It was the fact they had walked right into a trap. He knew it right then and there, though Raul hadn't seemed to process it fully yet.

"Oooooh, look, a dead body!" Six laughed nervously, giving Raul an agitated look. He knew now, retrieving his revolver as he nodded and gestured towards the entrance to the alleyway. "We'll… just be leaving now…."

The man shook his head, now flashing a shit eating grin. He pulled the pool cue from his back.

"I don't think so, get em' boys!"

Two other men appeared from the entrance, inching their way towards Six and Raul. One had a rusted machete, his long and severely unwashed hair just barely hanging out of his eyes. The other sported a lead pipe, face black with grime and god knows what else.

Six immediately whipped the laser pistol from his belt, sending off several blasts towards the approaching men, leaving Raul to quickly dispatch of the original man with a clean shot to the head. The scull fragments had barley hit the cement before the old ghoul spotted movement coming out from behind the closest dumpster to Six. The courier was too occupied with missing the surprisingly fast moving thugs to notice a man coming out from hiding.

He started towards Six, bringing out several inches of moonlit blade from his belt as he went. It was only a kitchen knife, but a damn big one at that.

"BOSS!'

Raul grabbed Six by the back of the leather jacket the kings had given him for doing their busy work and threw his own weight forward, practically flinging the small framed courier backwards and onto his ass.

"WHAT THE FU- RAUL!"

Raul let out a weak gasp and coughed, the blade sliding cleanly threw his Vaquero outfit and into his abdomen. The thug grabbed the ghouls shoulder and hauled him to the ground, blood leaking like warm water onto his hand as the knife came out.

Before Raul's limp frame hit the ground Six was up, teeth gritted in rage.

"Oh…. OH YOU FUCKING SHIT BASKET!"

Raul turned his head and coughed again, pain surging though his entire body as he placed a hand gently over the wound. He felt blood leaking from in between his skin bare fingers, but couldn't focus on it enough to panic. He had received a decent amount of injuries in his time, but this was his first serious one in what seemed like decades. Actually, it could have been. When you've been alive for over 200 years you stop counting them after a while. It gets to depressing.

He watched though hazed eyes as Six grabbed the man by the arm and bought it down over his knee, causing the man to drop the knife. Raul was almost certain he heard the bone break as well, the sharp crack echoing off the bare building walls. The thug only had a second of pained reaction before Six slammed his head into the pavement, knocking him out on contact.

Raul shut his eyes again, suddenly really wanting to just sleep all this off. He heard the usual grunts and thumps of a fight ensuing, but couldn't keep his eyes open to watch.

"RAUL! RAUL! IF YOU DIE I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Too late. Raul was already out, off somewhere else with a lot less killing and a lot more mariachi music. Somewhere nice, where the tortillas were soft and the woman softer.

XxxXxxX

"Nobody can stay out of trouble here, I swear." Arcade mumbled, his voice hinted lovingly as he discarded the last empty stimpack into a nearby bin "We go through more of these in a week than The Fort did in a month."

He turned curiously, a weak moan catching his attention. Raul stirred on the bed a few inches away, his face twitching. Arcade had just finished patching the ghoul up, he shouldn't be awake for at least a few more hours at the least. But, sure enough, Raul's murky blue eyes slid open half way, followed by another moan as he looked around the room sluggishly. Arcade walked over and peered over him, eyes warm as usual. Raul wasn't really sure how his eyes were _always _like that; maybe it was just a trick you learn after caring for others for so long.

"Morning, how do you feel?"

"¿Lo que el casco ha pasado?

"I don't speak Spanish, only Latin." Arcade responded, raising a playful eyebrow "Sorry mi amigo."

Raul winced and took in a breath, causing a dull pain to shoot through his abdomen. Thinking he could take such little pain, he sat up.

Big mistake.

He only made it up on his elbows before a _much_ stronger pain worked its way through him, causing him to gasp and grip his stomach. Arcade quickly placed a hand carefully on his back, helping him up into a sitting position.

"Thanks,"

Arcade nodded, watching him worriedly as Raul took a few breaths.

"You're all healed up, but the pains not going away for a few days. If you rest, of course. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine. I've had worse, trust me amigo. Is Six okay?"

The doctor nodded and smiled. He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and started for the door, turning quickly on his heels as he talked.

"Just a few bruises. I'll go get him; he wanted me to tell him when you woke up."

Raul tried to say something, probably along the lines of "tell him I'm fine, he's got better things to do" but it was too late. Barley a minute later Six poked his head in, eyebrow raised. He had a small cut below his left eye, but other than that looked mostly unharmed.

"You okay? Got me worried for a little bit there. You lost a lot of blood."

Raul laughed, ignoring the pain as he did so. Six entered the room and stood at his bedside, still looking concerned. Raul had never seen him like this in the short time they had been traveling together.

"I'm fine boss." He sighed, itching at a piece of flaking skin on the back of his neck "I'm just sorry i didn't see it was a trap sooner. Like i said, vision ain't worth crap anymore. In fact, none of me is really worth crap in a fight anymore. You should have taken Boone or Veronica."

Six furrowed his brow, tilting his head. He scoffed loudly and grinned, shaking his head as if he was just told deathclaws could fly.

"That's fuckin' stupid and you know it. You're great in a fight!"

"That's nice of you to say boss, but-"

"It's true!"

Raul smiled in defeat, Six's childlike pitch winning him over. It reminded him of Rafaela when he had informed her Santa wasn't real. She simply stamped her foot and shook her head, so sure that the man existed. He would never forget the look on her face when she caught their parents placing the gifts under the tree that very night.

"Alright boss," The old ghoul threw his free hand up, the other still on his stomach "you win, as usual."

The small courier laughed gently. He sat on the edge of the bed and tucked his legs to his chest, facing Raul. His bright eyes were wide as usual, the large blue pools full of emotion.

"Since I win, can you tell me some of your stories again?"

"You got it boss. I'm an open book. Granted, the book's in Spanish and some of the pages have fallen out, but I'm an open book."


	14. That's called fun

"Six? There's something I need to talk with you about."

Six looked up from his plate, his mouth stuffed full of brahmin steak. He tilted his head as Arcade shifted from one foot to the other, averting his eyes.

"Mffff mmmm."

"For god sakes, chew your food."

Six finished chewing his mouth full of food and swallowed. He pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his chair, swinging his feet up onto the dining room table.

"What's up Arcy?"

Arcade brought his hands restlessly out from behind his back and clasped them together, searching for the right words. Well, there wasn't really a right way to tell somebody this. Worry pulled at his stomach. He had come to love this new family they had managed to put together. The thought of losing it because of his background horrified him to no end. But someone had to know, they all did. Plus, his unfortunate background might prove useful.

"There's something about me you should know, I-"

"Hold up," Six interrupted suddenly, putting a hand up "I wanna take a guess here. You're gay, right? Well, we all already know. It's pretty obvious, you kn-"

Arcade cleared his throat obnoxiously loud, toppling over the courier's words. He took in a deep breath and shook his head, not really registering Six's words right away.

"No no, not that. I- wait, what? What do you mean it's _obvious?"_

Arcade crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. Six averted his eyes a few times, and then reached for his plate. He took another mouthful of steak before turning back, the picture of innocents.

"Mmmmfffff nnnahhhh,"

Arcade rolled his eyes and threw his arms down, now more annoyed than nervous. He pulled out a chair and sat across from Six as he finished his second mouthful of food.

"I'm…. My father was an Enclave officer."

Six didn't say anything, but his blue eyes widened ever so slightly. He remained silent though, waiting for Arcade to continue. The blonde sighed and leaned forward on the table, figuring there was no going back now.

"I never knew him; he died when I was an infant. After the NCR captured Navarro my mother and I along with some other remnants escaped to the Mojave. Look, I understand if you're mad about this, most people don't exactly like the Enclave. But, I'm telling you this for a reason. If we get the remnants together, we would stand a better chance at Hoover D-"

"Arcy, I'm going to stop you right there."

"…. What?"

"Who the _fuck_ are the Enclave?"

So, as Arcade happily realized, Six obviously wasn't going to be mad. In fact, nobody was. Cass and Raul were indifferent and Veronica gave this long speech about how backgrounds don't matter and she still loved him just the same. Six even chimed in, saying they needed at least _one_ gay guy to keep the suit clean.

Only Boone gave a negative reaction. Well, it wasn't exactly negative or positive. He simply stood back, silent. Arcade could read the ever so hint of surprise in his eyes however, maybe even some disapproval. Needless to say Arcade stayed away from Boone during their travels to Jacobstown, avoiding the snipers stone cold gaze.

"So, what do you think of Arcade now that we know he's Enclave?"

Boone kept his gaze forward, the frigid wind almost blowing his beret off. He wasn't exactly a fan of super mutants, so he was reluctant to travel up into the mountains. Six had finally agreed on letting him stay out of town limits, leaving him and Arcade to find Dr. Henry while Boone and Cass explored around the snow dusted hills.

"He's not enclave."

Cass raised an eyebrow. She remained silent, letting Boone continue in a hushed tone.

"He's not his father. Gannon's done good for all of us, and I still respect him all the same. Besides, if he was a threat, he'd be dead already."

"Huh, oh really?"

"Yeah."

Cass shrugged casually and turned to look over the ridge, taking in the scenery of thick green trees and at least two foot deep snow, rocks occasionally sticking up from the white like little islands. She decided to change the subject.

"So, what do you do for fun?"

Boone turned to her, that same stone face he always had. He shrugged and crossed his arms over his wide chest, the cold winter wind blowing over them.

"….. Repair guns."

"And?"

"… Read."

"Well, ain't you just a barrel of fuckin laughs?"

The sniper shrugged again. Shrugging seemed to be some type of language with him. It was his favorite type of communication. That annoyed Cass. In fact, the whole way Boone carried himself annoyed her. He had the potential to be interesting, but instead just dwelled on the past, sulking from day to day.

"You need to be more interesting, like right now."

Boone laughed once, a small smile tugging at his lips. He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to keep them warm.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, ya really do." She smiled deviously "You need to have fun for once. Try being more…. I don't fucking know…. Spontaneous?"

"You're not exactly a spontaneous person yourself, _Sharon_."

"Yeah, I might not be, but at least I smile once in a damn while. And its _Cass_, asshole."

She wanted to be mad, but Boone could tell she wasn't. For some reason she hated being called Sharon, and for some reason he loved teasing her with it.

"So, you want me to be more spontaneous, huh?"

His tone was challenging, maybe a little more mocking. Cass put her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

"Yup, right now."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"….. Okay."

Swiftly Boone placed a hand on the center of her back and shoved. She was light, so it didn't take much to send her off balance. She let out a girlish cry of surprise and went tumbling down the hill. It wasn't steep, but just angled enough to turn anybody going down into a giant rolling snowball. Boone jumped just after her, keeping his balance for a few seconds before flailing clumsily down as well. Both hit the bottom snow bank, a puff of white shooting put as they connected.

"WHAT THE FUCK CRAIG?"

Cass popped up from the snow, her hat long gone among the sea of white. Boone broke surface a few inches away, his beret gone as well. He turned to her, meeting her rage with unusual calm.

"There you go, now fuck off."

"….. Excuse me?"

Boone motioned to the ruined snow around them as he pulled himself up from the bank and dusted himself off.

"You wanted spontaneous, there you go." He shrugged "Plus, that's what you get for shoving cake in my face."

Cass's jaw dropped. She gritted her teeth, notorious rage filling her.

"_Okay, MY TURN!"_

She tackled him. It was a good tackle too, making contact with Boone's abdomen. Both went sprawling backwards, Cass shooting punches towards Boone's face. He caught both of her wrists with ease, her struggling and swears only brining a smile back to his face. Huffing tiredly, Cass stopped and stared into Boone's eyes, her wrists still trapped. Another devious smile spread over her lips.

She surged forward, her lips meeting his awkwardly.

Boone froze as their mouths worked, numbed by the cold. After a few seconds she pulled back, leaving him still frozen, cheeks flushed red.

"Who said I'm not spontaneous?"

Boone remained silent, mouth slightly open, eyes wide as if she had just slapped him. He started to say something, but the failed words fell like lead weights. Cass smiled and freed herself, standing before him confidently.

"You see? That's called _fun…."_


	15. Bed snatchers

"_This_ is also called fun."

Before the grinding from the ancient gears had even stopped Cass and Boone were out of the elevator, the thin redhead pulling him but the hand. Boone remained limp, his grey eyes wide as she pulled him into the guest room. She kicked the thin door shut and locked it before wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his.

"You sure you want to do this, Skipper?"

Boone swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He took in a breath, steadying himself, assuring himself talking was a simple action and it was totally possible for him right now.

"I-I-I ahhhh…."

"No going back now Skipper."

She placed a hand gently on his chest, pressing their lips together as she coaxed him backwards. Boone followed her lead, barley keeping his shaky legs from giving out as he shuffled backwards. Finally the back of his knees hit the bed. Cass gave him one last good shove, sending him un-gracefully onto the sheets. As if on impulse he got up on his elbows, ready to sit back up. Before he could Cass leaned over him, both hands pressed to his shoulders as she kissed him.

Boone froze as she lifted herself off of him and went for his belt, her slender fingers making quick work of the buckle. The sniper just followed her with his eyes, not wanting to move, wondering if this was just another nightmare. He was just waiting for her to turn into a corpse or some other haunting image.

"Feel free to jump in any time here, I'm already getting bored."

Boone met her playful green eyes; his own the size of dinner plates. Cass caught the nervousness in them. They almost had that "dear in the headlights" look.

Whatever the hell a dear was, she had never actually seen one. She only knew what her mother had described to her.

"Come on Skipper, I know for a fact you're not a virgin."

She slipped the leather belt out from the wrings of his cargo pants, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder. Boone winced slightly as it connected with the hardwood, the loud bang bouncing around the large room's walls.

"I….. It's been a while."

Cass raised an eyebrow, smile growing wider. In one swift motion she pulled off her shirt, leaving her exposed.

"You remember what to do with _these_, right?"

Boone's jaw dropped slightly. He felt his face grow hot.

"I…. Ahhhh…. Yeah."

XXxxXX

"My damn back is killing me." Raul murmured gruffly. He stretched upright in his seat, sending out a disgusting symphony of cracks.

"Wonderful table educate." Veronica laughed sarcastically, putting her fork down. Raul smiled, thanking her quietly as she collected his plate as well as hers to be put in the sink. He yawned and twisted to the right, grabbing the top of his chair to force himself to turn more. The cracks from his spine were so loud they seemed to drown out the clanging of the dishes as they fell into the basin.

"Oh," Veronica laughed again, wincing "that definitely can't be helping."

Raul shrugged sheepishly and stood, cracking his neck as well.

"With bones as old as mine darling, it doesn't really matter."

The scribe smiled and lightly punched him in the shoulder. Raul shrugged again, unable to keep a smile off his own face.

"Well señora, I'm heading to bed."

"Yeah, me too actually."

Raul gestured towards the door and she followed, keeping their steps light. Raul reached the door first and grabbed the door handle.

"Locked," The old ghoul mumbled, giving Veronica a questioning look. She raised an eyebrow and pressed an ear to the door, a trick she had learned back in the Brotherhood bunker. If you knock, the people on the other side know you're listing. Where's the fun in that?

First came a light giggle, one that could have been any girls. It sounded like Cass to Veronica though; it had that mischievous undertone to it.

Then came a groan, one _definitely_ from a man.

"Oh, for god sakes." Raul sighed lowly, face palming "Damn kids. Can't stay off each other for two minutes."

Veronica clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to suppress her own giggles.

"I think it's sweet!" She whispered through her fingers, grinning. Raul shook his head as she started back into the kitchen. He followed her, groaning when they were out of earshot.

"Well, looks like it's just you, me, and the couches amigo. You take the left one, I take right?"

Veronica shook her head, her childish grin remaining. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I have a better idea. I know a certain _somebody_ with a _very_ big bed around here."

Raul tiled his head in question, and then smiled himself.

"Lead the way."

Both headed for Six's room. The door was open a crack. How convenient.

"Why does the boss sleep like that?" Raul asked, slightly disturbed. Six was curled up tightly in the center of the bed, uncovered, no pillow. Veronica shrugged and walked around to the right side of the bed, Raul going to the left. The scribe leaned over and poked at Six's back with the index finger of her power-fist.

"Six? Wakey wakey!"

"Huuuuhhhh, stop it Harry."

"Six!"

"Not now damn you!"

Veronica flicked the back of his head. The courier twitched a few times and rolled over, eyes half open.

"W-what? What do you people want from me dammit?"

"The guest room is…. Occupied. So, Raul and I are bunking with you….. Who's Harry?"

"Say what? God, can't you shit-whistlers just leave me be? Go away!"

Despite Six's objections, it was sadly too late. Both of his companions crawled into bed with him, leaving him in the middle. The courier let out a loud groan of defeat before dropping his head back down, too exhausted to care.

A few minutes later Six pried his eyes back open, some sudden movements alerting him. Immediately he was blinded by blue light. He put a hand in front of his eyes, allowing them to adjust.

"Oh, for fucks sakes!"

It was Rex, panting happily by the seventeen year olds legs. He barked once and sat down; obviously stating he wasn't going anywhere. Six huffed in frustration and jumped out of bed, cursing everybody like a mad man before stomping into the living room.

"Good evening Six."

Arcade was sitting by the pool table, a book lightly gripped in-between his long fingers. He peered up, eyes questioning.

"Something wrong?"

"A scribe, a ghoul, and a robotic dog have taken over my bed. It's FUCKING BULSHIT!"

The doctor chuckled, unable to help himself. He sighed lightly and looked back down to the worn pages.

"Now, that's certainly a problem."

"Thanks for the helpful insight, Arcy."

"That's what I'm here for." Arcade shifted from the middle of the couch to the end "Come and sit, I think you'll like this book I'm reading."

Six dragged himself over and collapsed onto the creaky couch. He leaned back, only able to keep his eyes half open.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, it's about- Hey!"

Six leaned down to the side, landing halfway onto Arcade's lap. The blonde lifted his book up and looked down, eyebrow raised. Six shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Wanna read it to me?"

Arcade sighed heavily and smiled, shaking his head. He leveled the book once again and read a few pages, keeping his tone hushed as Six quickly fell asleep.


	16. Stupid fears

"We need to talk."

Boone stopped, looking up briefly. His hands froze mid work, his half assembled rifle lying idly in his lap. He hadn't heard Cass's voice since last night. When he woke up this morning she was gone, no trace left except the jumbled sheets.

"Yeah, yeah we do."

Boone looked back down and began to finish with his gun, trying his best to fake disinterest. But, in his head he listened, taking in every one of her footsteps as if they were the answer to all his questions. She stood before him, not bothering to take the free seat on the couch.

He still didn't look back up, but that didn't seem to faze her.

"I…. Think we might have made a mistake."

Boone's heart sunk, but he shoved those unfamiliar emotions back. Way back. So far back they would hopefully never see the light of day. Truthfully, he didn't know what to expect from her. Maybe he had hoped…. No, he never hoped. Hoping only led to disappointment. No, expecting was safer. Knowing what's going to happen before it does. That way, it's less of a shock. He swallowed and nodded, his throat suddenly tighter.

"Yeah, maybe we did."

Cass shifted from one foot to the other, her arms crossed over her chest. Silence hung between them, the soft patter of rain from outside filling the gaps were words should have been. Thunder also grumbled lowly, cutting through the suits eerie silence. Finally she sighed and placed her hand on her hips. The way Boone was ignoring her was troubling. The fact she couldn't place why was frustrating.

"Look, I'm going to be up front with this. I'm no good in a relationship, and I know you're probably worse."

"You're right."

"_But…_ I'd be lying if I said I would never want one with you."

"….. So would I."

More silence. The heavy kind. The kind that makes you want to smash a window just to make some noise. Well, maybe most people don't think like that. But then again, Cass isn't most people. She's Rose Of Sharon Cassidy, a whiskey lover and a heart breaker.

She suddenly didn't find the heart breaking part very appealing.

"We can go either way here," Cass let her hands slide down from her hips, her tone weak and soft "I'm leaving it up to you. You probably don't want that responsibility, but too fucking bad. If you want, we can try at a relationship. If not, we can just as easily pretend this never happened. Believe me, I've done it before."

Boone winced a little; glad more than ever his eyes were covered by their usual tinted shields. He wanted to say something. No, _scream_ something. He wanted to stand up and scream at the top of his lungs that he loved her and she was the only woman for him. He didn't even know if that was true, but he still wanted to scream it.

But instead Boone just sat, still not peering up. He nodded once, barley giving any sign of even hearing her. If only she knew he was hanging on her every word.

"Okay, come find me later then." Cass gently reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze, leaving it there for a second as if to emphasize something before leaving the room. Boone remained stiff, sitting in silence for a few extra seconds before turning back to work.

XxxX

"I need a fucking drink." Cass sighed, letting the door to the guest room gently click shut behind her. She leaned on it for a few seconds, and then decided the living room would probably be empty right now. She quickly made her way in, heading straight for where she kept the booze.

She didn't even notice Six by the pool table until she had a bottle of whiskey in hand, her other ready to pull out the stopper. The courier was sitting on the edge of the pool table, his back to her. He was totally silent, the only noise coming from his shaking knee. Cass quickly picked up on how twitchy and nervous his movements were. She normally wouldn't even ask, but today seemed to be a day for fucking up.

"You alive over there kid?"

Six jumped visibly and spun around, eyes slightly wider than usual. He blinked a few times and nodded, lips still sealed. What's with everybody and the troubled silence today? Life was a lot simpler for Cass when she was just drowning her sorrows at the bar. The read head raised an eyebrow.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost or somethin. You alright?"

Six shook his head quickly before she even finished her sentence. He leaned backwards and sat back down on the pool table, face pale.

"Yup, fine! Why wouldn't I be? I'm perfectly-"

A random boom of thunder crashed over his words. Cass didn't even acknowledge it. She was too busy watching Six practically have a panic attack right in front of her. The younger man jumped again and yelped rather girlishly before clamping a hand down harshly over his mouth. He was shaking too, his arms pressed protectively against himself as if he were cold. Cass tried her best not to laugh, she really did. Her attempts were in vain however, because within seconds she let out a whooping laugh. A laugh so intense she almost dropped the whiskey.

"I-I-It's not funny!" Six cried, face growing red. His voice was shaky, as if he were on the verge of snapping. Cass took in a few deep breaths and sighed happily, satisfied.

"Oh my god kid, you're afraid of the thunder aren't you?"

"No! No, I-"

Another sharp scream of thunder, just what Cass had hoped for. Six yelped twice as loud as before and surged forward, wrapping his thin arms around her. The woman rolled her eyes and glared down at him, feeling as if he wanted to climb into her ribcage. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pried him off, keeping a hold of him.

"Sorry," Six murmured weakly, his face now crimson "was kinda on impulse."

Cass shook her head, now smiling. She wanted so badly to keep taunting Six, but suddenly found herself without the drive. Instead she felt unfamiliar pity, one that was urging her to comfort him.

Well, actually, she could probably manage a little more taunting first.

"Come on, what are you, like fourteen?"

"I'm _really_ hoping that's sarcasm."

"Well, be prepared to be _really_ disappointed."

Six made a face and rolled his eyes, though his distress was still noticeable. Cass laughed gently and started for the kitchen, motioning for him to follow. He did as instructed, trailing her like a lost puppy, watching her with wide eyes as she found a glass and poured a large amount of whiskey into it.

"So, like I was saying, aren't you a little old for this kind of fear?"

Six shrugged helplessly and frowned, crossing his arms over his thin chest.

"I don't fucking know, I've been noticing a lot of weird things about me I can't explain."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact I speak a little of French _and_ Chinese. I don't even know where those places _are._"

"China is somewhere near Japan, ain't it?"

"I don't fucking know. I can only find so much reading material on the subject around here."

More thunder sounded, though this time softer. Six didn't jump, but he shuttered and shut his eyes miserably. Finally giving in, Cass placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, don't piss yourself. If it helps any, my dad used to tell me that thunder was just angles bowling in the sky."

"That…. Doesn't help me at all. In fact, that's just plain stupid."

Cass nodded and took a generous sip from the glass, letting the alcohol hang in the back of her throat for a few seconds before swallowing.

"Yeah, didn't help me either." She handed him the glass "But this always does."

Upon being gripped the glass began to shake in Six's nervous hand, almost causing whiskey to slosh out. Cass reached over and gripped the opposite side, their fingertips touching as she steadied it. She gently urged the glass to his lips, making him take a sip. He winced as it burned down his throat, though it did calm him a little. Cass smiled and nodded.

"Good, take another."

XXxxXX

Veronica walked out from the elevator, an almost perfectly preserved pre-war book for Six tucked under her arm. She caught Cass walking out of the kitchen and gave her a friendly smile.

"Hey, you know were Six is?"

The red head nodded sheepishly as she brushed passed her and into the elevator.

"Yeah, he's passed out in a drunken ball under the table. If you need me, I'll be upstairs."


	17. A confusing person

"At this rate, his livers going to be shriveled up at 30."

Arcade sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache starting up. Veronica smiled sympathetically and bent down, peering under the kitchen table. Six had been under there for the past hour, curled up tightly and mumbling in his alcohol hazed sleep.

So far, their efforts to wake him have been in vain.

"Oooooh Six!" Veronica called sweetly, poking at his side "You could have at least passed out in your own room you little idiot!"

Six curled up even tighter and winced, drool pooling from his mouth onto the floor.

"Cut it out Harry. It's not….. Ah, you whore! I wanted the last piece!"

"Who the hell is Harry?" Veronica asked, eyebrow raised "Every time he sleeps he mumbles about somebody named Harry."

Arcade shrugged and shook his head, unsure himself. He was about to say something, but stopped abruptly as heavy footsteps sounded behind them. Boone walked into the kitchen, hands shoved in his pockets. He glanced briefly at Six, but wasn't at all fazed by the sight.

"I need advice."

Arcade smiled mockingly, tilting his head. He gently slid his hands into the pockets of his lab coat and leaned backwards, sitting on the edge of the old wooden table.

"We don't have to give you _the talk_, do we?"

Boone sighed angrily, staring Arcade down. The blonde simply smiled and raised an eyebrow in return, his blue eyes mocking.

"You know Gannon, sarcasm really doesn't suit you." He looked to Veronica "You, with me."

The sniper turned and started out of the room, footsteps still heavy on the hardwood floor. Veronica shot Arcade a triumphant look before following, her hands clasped behind her back. Arcade rolled his eyes and turned back to Six as he heard the ancient gears of the elevator turning.

XXxxXX

Veronica followed Boone out of the elevator and into the Lucky 38's casino floor, remaining silent. She waved to Victor before reaching the sitting area. She spun playfully on her heels and collapsed onto the sick green couch, a smile spread over her thin face. Boone raised a questioning eyebrow, her happiness confusing him a little. He was used to that though; Veronica could sometimes be a confusing person. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned back, several strands of thin black hair spilling out from her hood.

"So, watcha need?"

"Hold on, I'm going to need a cigarette for this."

Boone fished a pack from his pocket and pulled one out with his teeth, using his other hand to find a book of matches.

"You smoke?" He asked the scribe, the cigarette bobbing up and down between his lips as he talked. Veronica laughed lightly, her tone teasing.

"Now Craig, do I look like the kind of girl who smokes?"

"….. I'll take that as a no?"

"You should take that as a yes."

Boone's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He shrugged and offered her the pack, still looking for his matches. She took one and stuck it into her mouth before pulling a lighter out from a pocket in her robes. She lit the end and gracefully blew out a cloud of thick smoke before reaching up and lighting Boone's, who looked totally dumbfounded. She shrugged.

"The whole _good girl _act only goes so far with me."

Boone nodded, amused. He blew smoke out of his nose and sighed, watching the securitrons as they wheeled soundlessly around the Casino's floor, looking for intruders that weren't there.

"I need love advice."

"I figured you would."

Boone turned to her, grey eyes slightly wider than before. The fact Veronica seemed to know everything about him was slightly disturbing. Was he really that easily read?

"I have magical powers or deduction! Woooooo, fear me!"

Damn, she's good.

"Okay, okay." The sniper groaned as she giggled "Very funny, let's all pick on the guy without a clue. Are you done?"

Veronica nodded, a toothy grin remaining. She put her cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and focused on Boone, who was struggling for words.

"Cass is…."

"Very special to you?"

"Yeah, she is. But, I don't know…."

"If it'll work out?"

"…. Yeah…. And I….."

"Don't want to hurt her? But, on the other hand, you don't want to hurt yourself. Am I getting warm here?"

"You know what? I'm just going to just shut up here and let you talk."

"Smart boy."

Veronica smiled warmly, watching a _very_ embarrassed Boone look down at his feet and kick absently at the ground. She stood and placed a hand gently under his chin, tilting his head up.

"_You_, my socially awkward friend, need to go get her."

"But-"

"_Now. _Think about it, you pee-brain! Who else is going to put up with your miserable ass? You thought you were never going to find another girl but you did, so what are you waiting for? Go get her! Don't make the same mistake I did!"

Boone opened his mouth to object, but Veronica wasn't having it. She grabbed him by the wide shoulders and spun him around, guiding him towards the elevator. She got him to the doors and shoved, sending him practically flying in. How such a thin woman could throw a full grown man around so easily, Boone would never know. The sniper stuck his head back out, cheeks slightly red.

"I might not exactly know where she-"

"SHES IN THE COCKTAIL LOUNGE YOU MORON!"

"OKAY! DAMN!"

XXxxXX

Cass heard the elevator but didn't bother turning around. She just remained stationary at the bar, a glass of whiskey loosely gripped between her fingers. She knew it was Boone, who else would be coming up here?

"Cass?"

The redhead still didn't turn. He wouldn't look at her earlier, so why should she now? That may sound childish, but in her heart it truly felt justified. Two wrongs might not make a right, but it sure as hell made her feel better. Boone took a few more steps but remained behind her, waiting.

"Sharon?"

Cass gripped the glass tighter, annoyance running through her. It only lasted a few seconds though, and was quickly replaced with curiosity. Finally she turned on the bar stool, facing Boone. She had expected to see his usual miserable scowl, but was surprised to find him smiling.

"Yeah? What is it? Make it quick, I want to get shit-faced in peace."

"I want to see if we can make it work."

Cass stopped, the glass halfway to her lips. She really hadn't seen that coming, but she would never let him know that. She kept a practiced poker face, raising an eyebrow as she took the sip.

"Oh really?" She laughed, her one teasing "I dunno Craig, my hearts locked up pretty tight."

"Well," Boone sighed, hating himself for saying this "I guess I'll just have to break in."

Silence hung between the two. It wasn't heavy like this morning though, it was more of an amusing silence. The kind were two people are waiting for the other to break down laughing.

Cass lost as she broke into a fit of half-drunken laughter, almost spilling her glass. She shook her head as Boone joined her at the bar, jumping up and sitting on the counter.

"Oh my fucking god, how long did it take you to think that up?"

"Just thought of it now," Boone reached down under the marble counter, grabbing a beer "not bad for a socially awkward moron, eh?"

Cass leaned her elbows on the bar, holding her face in her hands. She watched Boone as he bit the cap off with his teeth, mocking fascination. He turned to her and managed a charming smile, the cap still between his front teeth. She laughed, placing a hand gently on his knee.


	18. He always knew

"Good to see you guys waited for me."

Boone, Arcade, and Six all turned simultaneously to The Old Mormon Fort entrance. They all watched silently as Cass joined them, the thick wooden door groaning shut behind her. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled awkwardly. She was never great with goodbyes.

"Gunna miss you kid. You weren't exactly the _bravest_, but you were a damn good friend."

Six twitched in annoyance as Cass ruffled his hair lovingly. He rolled his eyes and looked away, trying to hide a smile as he murmured and sarcastic thanks. The redhead shrugged and grinned before pulling Arcade into a hug, switching her eyes to Boone. The sniper smiled slightly, his hands borrowed deeply into the pockets of his cargo pants. He wasn't really that great with goodbyes either.

"C'mon Six," Arcade laughed, tugging at the courier's elbow "let's give them some privacy, huh?"

Six nodded once and turned, following Arcade into a nearby tent. Once the two were gone Cass slipped her arm around Boone's, hugging his bicep gently.

"You all packed?"

The sniper grunted lightly in reply, meeting her eyes bashfully. He _really _wasn't good at saying goodbye. Or, maybe it was just simply the fact he just didn't want it all to end. Cass peered down, raising an eyebrow at the bags by their feet. They looked twice as heavy as usual, all stuffed with extra supplies and guns.

Boone and Six were going to need everything they could carry at Hoover Dam.

"Raul and Veronica already head out?"

He grunted again, watching the scientist and doctors work like ants around the fort. Cass sighed and laughed, tightening her grip on him.

"Don't be so fucking emotional, you're breaking my heart here."

Boone couldn't keep a full smile off his lips. He shrugged half-heartedly and looked her in the eyes, glasses sagging down his sharp nose.

"I'll try to tone it down for you."

Cass rolled her eyes and let go of his bicep, instead wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled one hand out of his pocket and awkwardly placed it on her back, trying his best not to tense from the contact. People skills were an art Boone was never going to fully learn.

"I'm going to miss you most of all, scarecrow."

"…. What?"

"It's from a pre-war story my father used to read to me when I was little. I forget the name, though."

Boone placed his second hand on her back and pulled her in more, trying his best to be meaningful. Sometimes he tried too hard, sometimes not enough. He was hoping to finally get it right this time.

"You should tell me about it."

Cass rocked up onto her toes and kissed him, her grip around his neck loosening.

"The next time I see you."

With that she let go, her grin reduced back down to a weak smile. She patted the side of his face and pulled his beret down playfully, knocking his glasses completely off. He left them there in the dirt, pulling the red fabric from his eyes in time to watch her leave. She looked back, waving once before the large wooden door swallowed her back up.

He continued to watch the empty space where she had been, leaving the glasses abandoned for a few minutes before swiftly snatching them up and pocketing them.

XXxxXX

"You better miss me."

Six laughed as Arcade raised an eyebrow, the picture of seriousness. He sat back onto the edge of a small grimy table, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. Six crossed his arms over his thin chest and grinned, the assault rifle strapped to his back clanking against his armor as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Of course I will, who else will keep me from hurting myself?"

"And cook for you."

"And do my laundry."

"That was actually Veronica, I just took the credit."

Six smiled and uncrossed his arms. After a few seconds he frowned, averting his eyes as he fished into the pocket of his backpack for something while he talked.

"Look, Arcy, if I don't make i-"

"You _are _going to make it. I've put too much effort into keeping you alive to lose you now."

Six smiled again, though it felt a little forced. He finally found what he was looking for and pulled it out, dangling it in front of Arcade.

"In case I die, I want you to have this."

It was a silver necklace, the surprisingly well kept metal gleaming in the light. From the chain swung a large charm. Arcade stared curiously at the charm, its one word causing his eyebrows to shoot up.

_Andy._

Arcade just stared at it, tilting his head in question. Six stepped closer to him, also admiring the necklace.

"The day after I woke up In Goodsprings I went back to my grave, hoping to find anything that could help me remember who I was. I found this half buried at the bottom. The clasp must have been broken when they threw me in."

The blonde doctor turned to him, shocked.

"You….. You knew your real name all along? Why didn't you say something?"

Six shrugged, adjusting the strap going across his chest. He slowly reached down and brought Arcade's hand up. He dropped the chain into it and closed his friend's slender fingers.

"I didn't like Andy; it didn't seem to fit me." The courier grinned, showing his oddly perfect teeth "I like Six a lot more."

Arcade nodded slowly, looking down at his hand. He took in a slow breath and slipped the necklace into his coat pocket. He could feel tears in his eyes, threatening to drip down his face. He shook his head and held them back, keeping himself composed.

"Six does suit you well. You don't really look like an Andy."

"Exactly. Doesn't have that ring to it that Six does."

Arcade nodded, meeting Six's bright blue eyes. He reached out and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. He squeezed it, as if it would emphasize his words.

"I'm really going to miss you kiddo. Please, stay safe."

"Of course he won't, that's why I'm going."

Both men turned to the entrance of the tent, watching Boone as he strode in. Arcade dropped his hand and smiled, hoping his eyes weren't still watery.

"You stay safe too Craig."

"I'll miss you too, Gannon."

Arcade stuck his hand out. Boone took it instantly and shook before pulling the doctor into a loose hug. Surprised, Arcade hugged back. He raised an eyebrow once they parted, sporting that usual mocking tone.

"I appreciate that, Craig. I know how hard actual human contact is for you."

"Good. I think something in my brain just popped."

Arcade laughed softly, his heart secretly sinking as Boone informed Six they needed to head out. The courier nodded and turned, grabbing Arcade into an obnoxious bear hug.

"Okay, okay." The blonde breathed "I love you too. Don't snap my ribs please."

Six let go and followed Boone out of the tent, helping him grab their bags before heading to the front gate. The seventeen year old waved once before they disappeared into Freeside. Arcade waved back and stood, listing to the familiar bangs and calls of the fort. A few feet away he could hear Julie's soft tone, ordering other doctors around as they tended to the wounded or sick.

He was right back where he started.

But, it felt kind of good, in a way.

**Don't worry; I don't plan on ending this story just yet! If enough people want me too, I will certainly continue this. I have plenty of new ideas and characters for later chapters.**


	19. The life I choose to lead

"Arcade? I-I think it's here for you!"

Arcade stuck his head out of the medical tent, the plastic tip of a stimpack still bitten in between his teeth. He looked towards the front gate, eyebrow raised as Julie called out for him nervously. His pale blue eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of who was standing before the petite woman, screen blaring with the menacing happy face that had come to haunt Arcade's dreams. He began pulling back, hoping to god he hadn't been noticed yet.

"ARCADE!"

No such luck.

"Hey! I've been looking all over for you!"

Yes man wheeled past Julie, almost knocking her over before rushing up to Arcade. He stopped just inches from the doctor's thin chest, proving the theory that robots have absolutely no sense of personal space. Arcade gave a forced toothy smile and leaned back, fighting back the overwhelming urge to scream and take off. He had enjoyed his times in New Vegas, but Yes Man was the one part of his past life he didn't want back. At all.

"I've been sent to find you!" Yes Man chirped, wonderfully stating the obvious. Arcade tilted his head and took a small step back, giving himself some breathing room as he spit the plastic tip out. Much to his dismay, Yes Man closed the space between them instantly.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it."

"What? No! Nothing like that!" The robot moved his arms around erratically as he talked, the movements matching his words even more awkwardly than Arcade remembered. Looks like whoever is screwing with his programming now knows absolutely nothing about A.I.'s. Either that or they did it for a laugh. It looks pretty funny.

"Oh really?" Arcade asked, deadpan "Then what? What could you possibly want?"

"Six sent me!"

Six. Arcade hadn't heard that name in over a year and a half. For the first few weeks after Hoover Dam he had been worried, always watching the front gate out of the corner of his eye while he worked. Soon however, his concerns were eased as stories began floating down to Freeside. Stories of victory, stories of that skinny little courier who had somehow managed to overthrow a whole society. It was like a fairytale around here, to be forever ranted about by the drunk and told to the young. Six was a hero now. Where he had taken all that fame Arcade never knew.

"Six?"

"Yes! He's back in Vegas! And wanted me to _personally_ invite you back up to the Lucky 38! Gee, isn't he a swell guy?"

_That stupid shit had to send me the crazy one;_ Arcade thought spitefully, though he kept that forced smile and nodded, hoping to get rid of Yes Man as soon as possible. Once the robot began to wheel away Arcade noticed that something was visibly carved into his metal back plate.

A large cartoon penis was carved into the blue painted surface, the lines sharp but clumsy.

Yup, Six definitely sent him.

Arcade weakly dropped his hands into his coat pockets and sighed, allowing himself a smile as Julie slowly walked up beside him. She gave him a questing look, eyes wide as the fort door slammed shut from Yes Man's exit.

"Looks like I'm taking another vacation," Arcade announced proudly, shrugging as he turned to her. She smiled widely and laughed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Good, because you're obviously_ so_ much trouble."

"It's the life I choose to lead, sadly."

XXxxXX

"Good to see you're still old."

"Good to see you still have a big mouth."

Veronica smiled, clean white teeth just barley showing between her thin lips. She leaned up onto her toes and snatched the sombrero off Raul's head, giggling as she dropped it down over her scribe hood. The brim fell down over her eyes and she pushed it up, watching Raul shake his head in amusement.

"You have not changed at all, my friend."

Veronica smiled even wider and took the floppy hat off, tugging it back onto the ghouls head backwards. Raul sighed and straitened it as he watched her dance around the main hall, taking in the entire suite. She poked her head in all the doors, looking around as if it were the first time she'd been there.

"By the steel, this place hasn't changed!" She pointed to a dent in the far wall of the guest room "Remember that time Cass threw Six into a wall for leaving Cook-Cook's head in her underwear drawer?"

"Damn kid couldn't remember were we lived for a week," Raul murmured, nodding "couldn't remember Boone's name either, he just kept calling him _glasses_."

Both of them turned sharply as the elevators ancient gears grinded loudly, the pre-war machine finally squeaking to a stop and sliding open. Out stepped Arcade, still wearing the same lab coat with the same glasses. He stood in the center of the hallway and opened his arms, smirking.

"Who missed me?"

Veronica squealed his name and ran over, practically tackling him. The doctor took her into his long arms and swung her around, her feet coming clear off the floor. He set her down and pulled Raul into a hug, though he skipped the swinging part.

"I'm assuming Six sent out for you two as well?"

Raul nodded, pulling at his sombrero in another attempt to straighten it.

"Si, Veronica got here a little before I did. I guess were waiting for the others, if they come."

Arcade shrugged and placed his hands in his coat pockets, murmuring that the odds of _everybody _coming were slim, but possible. Veronica placed her hands on her hips, studying his face curiously. It was thinner, his skin a sickly pale. She tilted her head and leaned to the side, getting a full look at him.

"Do you feel okay Arcy? You don't look right."

"Thanks, I really needed a self-esteem boost." Arcade answered sarcastically, forcing a small laugh. He felt small under the scribe's gaze, that knowing look on her face. She's just going to keep staring until she gets an answer, isn't she? Arcade sighed and smiled.

"I've been running on little sleep these past few weeks. Some type of flu has been running through of Freeside, the flow of patients is _just_ starting to thin."

"You didn't _catch it_, did you?" Veronica asked, smiling knowingly. Arcade quickly shook his head, trying his best to look happy.

"Doctors can't get sick, you know that."

The small woman opened her mouth to respond, but was silenced by the familiar sound of grinding gears. All three turned, watching in silence as the elevator doors peeled open yet again.

**Sorry I haven't written in so long, been busy with stuff and all that. I hope this was good enough, I'm a little rusty in the ways of fanfiction now XD**


	20. Like those prewar love books

"No! NO! BAD DO-"

Out of the elevator, with the same precision and speed everyone remembered, came Rex. The half robotic dog shot like a speeding bullet from the parting doors and weaved around everybody's feet, bumping Veronica into Raul's chest. The ghoul's deeply accented swears were quickly drowned out by Arcade's desperate screams as Rex connected with his abdomen, sending them both over in a tangled mess.

"Es stercus!" The doctor gasped, just barley holding the animal back by his shoulders. Rex whimpered and leaned down, his mechanical strength quickly causing Arcade's thin arms to give in. Next thing he knew he was covered in slobber, glasses knocked askew in the pandemonium.

"He missed you Arcy, can't blame the guy."

A familiar yet foreign voice rang in Arcade's ears as the dogs mass was hauled off his chest, freeing his lungs from what felt like a vice. He wiped drool as thick as mucus from his eyes and reached out, feeling completely disoriented without his glasses.

"I missed ya' too."

The familiar touch of pre-war plastic slid between his slender fingers as the disembodied voice returned his glasses. Arcade put them on and blinked, eyes adjusting. The familiar yet foreign voice now had a face. It was Six. The now eighteen year old offered his hand, grinning happily as Rex fidgeted with excitement by his feet.

"You should get a handle on that mutt of yours." Arcade announced, taking the hand up. Six easily lifted him to his feet. Veronica laughed ecstatically and wrapped her arms around Six's neck from behind, squeezing and almost lifting him clear of the floor.

"We missed you so much honey. Where have you been?"

"Here and there," Six answered causally, shrugging. He turned to Raul and stuck out his hand, white teeth still gleaming in a grin. "Manly hands shake?"

"I still consider you a kid, kid."

The mechanic wrapped an arm around his friends neck, pulling him into a half hug, half choke hold. He ruffled the couriers hair before letting him go, smiling.

"So boss, bring anything good back from travels? Or did you just drink and wonder aimlessly for a year?"

Six cracked his neck and straitened his hair. He was still dressed in the same kings outfit everybody remembered him leaving in, the one with the striped shirt. He hadn't changed much. The only thing really different was his hair, which had grown a few inches and now fell clumsily into his eyes.

"I found booze, some new guns, and some more booze. Anyone wanna' get wasted in the kitchen?"

Both Veronica and Raul jumped on the opportunity. Six lazily draped an arm over each of their shoulders and began leading them to the next room, throwing Arcade a mocking look. The doctor crossed his arms over his narrow chest and stayed in place, watching them with a pensive look.

"C'mon Arcy!" Six laughed, turning forwards as he continued to lead his companions "Don't be a wet bla-"

Arcade gently reached out, sliding two fingers into the collar of Six's shirt. The small man allowed himself to be pulled backwards and into Arcade's icy gaze. He didn't look mad, but certainly not happy. Just thoughtful, waiting for the others to walk out of ear shot. Noticing this, Raul smiled knowingly and placed a hand on Veronica's shoulder, leading her into the kitchen with Rex at their heels.

"You should have contacted me," Arcade murmured softly, arms once again crossed firmly to his chest "I thought you were dead."

Six shrugged, the grin fading down to an emotional smile.

"Could've, would've, should've. Would it make you feel better if I said I didn't contact anybody else either?"

"No, no it would not."

"See? That's why I asked."

Arcade raised an eyebrow, looking the perfect part of somebody unimpressed. Six continued to smile, his wide blue eyes begging for his friend not to be mad. The doctor remained unmoved, still staring down at him with disapproval and hidden anger. Slowly he sighed and reached into his coat pocket, slipping something that clinked into the palm of his hand. He held it up.

"I believe this is yours."

"That was a gift to you."

"You gave it to me in case you died. You look pretty alive to me."

Arcade stepped in, gently fitting the chain around Six's thin neck. He hooked it and stepped back, the necklace managing to look brilliant in the dim lighted setting around them. Six took the charm in his hand and gave a small laugh, the name etched in the metal looking back at him.

_Andy_

"I replaced the clamp. It doesn't exactly match the metal, but it was all I could find."

Arcade finally allowed his lips to tilt into a smile, watching Six stare at the last piece of his past.

"It's perfect now. Thank you."

"It's the least I could do. You deserve it, you know, for defeating a whole army and all that."

Six laughed again, softly. He let the charm drop from his grimy fingers, letting it swing on the end of its chain. The small courier reached over, pulling Arcade into the same vice-grip hug he had given the day he left for Hoover Dam.

Hoover Dam. That name seemed to jog Arcade's memory. He looked around in question as Six let go of him, eyes drowning with tears he would never dare let fall.

"Ah, where's Boone? Or Cass for that matter. Did you send you for them too?"

"Yeah, actually. I don't think they're coming."

Arcade could see the flash of disappointment in the deep waters of Six's eyes. Though only a flash, for that was another thing he wouldn't dare show.

"They'll come."

"You think?"

"Boone isn't that cold and I highly doubt Cass had anything better to do." Arcade smiled knowingly, tone hinted with something Six couldn't really place "Besides, I'm sure they miss each other just as much as they miss this hell hole."

Six raised an eyebrow and grinned, mischief filling his thin face.

"God, I can't wait to put Cook-Cook's head in her drawer again."

"Okay, that's it. I'm putting my foot down. You're getting rid of that thing!"

"Aw, no fun. Just like I remember. You still bitch about everything too?"

XXxxXX

"I can't believe I'm back here. Again."

Boone watched the multi colored lights of the Lucky 38 flash, their glare reflecting in his sunglasses. He remained on the front steps, watching the main doors. So many mixed feelings. Too many. For some reason it felt like a mistake coming back here. He had been told so many times the past belonged in the past. Didn't this break that rule? Was it even a rule?

Boone shook his head slowly, undecided. He could easily walk away. In a way he wanted to. Why? If he didn't know than nobody would. The sniper sighed and hopped up onto the railing by the giant lit stairway, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He began fiddling with the top of the pack, suddenly losing the urge to smoke. He shrugged weakly and put them pack, watching the pink hued sky as night slowly fell over New Vegas.

"You goin' in or what?"

Boone surprised himself. He didn't jump. He just kept looking up, counting the steps as someone walked up beside him, his knees level with their shoulder.

"You miss me Skipper?"

"Indeed, Sharon."

Cass crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at Boone with a raised eyebrow. He didn't turn to her. He didn't know what to say. In a way he hoped if he just kept staring away she would just lose interest and walk way, leaving him to just stay on the railing forever. Boone winced at the thought of it, the weathered railing was already starting to make his ass hurt.

"That sky must be pretty fascinating." She leaned on the metal, just by his thigh "Either that or you're ignoring me."

"I would never ignore you."

"Then look at me."

Boone finally gave in, looking down. He pushed the uncertainty aside. He would let her lead, follow her. His emotions would hopefully sort themselves out later. Cass smiled, several strands of red hair cascading down from her hat and into her eyes.

"Good boy. Now kiss me and say how much you missed me."

Boone leaned forward obediently, expecting something gentle. Something meaningful, like in those pre-war love novels Veronica used to always read.

Should've known better

Cass gripped him by the collar and yanked him down off the railing. He fell into her. She kept them both from falling over before locking mouths with him, wrapping her arms around his neck. A few feet away Boone could hear two women who had just entered New Vegas talking to the side, watching with smiles, whispering about how it was just like in those pre-war love books.

**I'm so sorry, ill start updating this more I swear! I've been having problems with the site lately and couldn't upload for a while. Another sorry for anybody who thinks this was lacking, I haven't been writing much. Still rusty.**


	21. Whos the doctor?

"So I brought the thing back, right? To clean it off? Because I thought it was a dog! But it wasn't!" Six rocked back onto the back legs of his chair, arms spread wide past his narrow chest. "It was this _big_ rat! I swear to god man, just this big freakin' Mexican rat! No offense Raul."

Arcade pressed his lips together, fighting back a grimace as Raul nodded, a toothpick jutting out from his front teeth. He pulled his sombrero down over his eyes, creating a small shield for himself from Six's table conversations. Arcade was jealous. He sighed and pushed the plate in front of him away, feeling a small wave of nausea bubble up in his stomach.

"That's nice Six…. real nice."

"Ain't it? God, I missed you Arcy. I can always tell you my best stories."

"… Yeah."

Both men turned as Veronica swung the kitchen door open, her arms filled with food from one of the casinos. She brushed past the table, two huge crates blocking out her face. She let them collapse onto the counter and adjusted her hood, turning to everyone.

"Good morning ev- Arcade, if you don't eat that I'm going to force feed you it."

She crossed her arms over her chest, giving the doctor a disapproving look. Arcade averted his eyes and swallowed, wincing. It felt somebody was farming razor blades on the walls of his throat. Six cocked an eyebrow, still just barley balancing backwards.

"Must be the first time a woman's told you that, eh?"

Arcade narrowed his eyes and sighed, running his slender fingers through his hair.

"Clever. Nice hat, it come in hetero?"

Six tugged carefully at the cowboy hat he had insisted on buying in Goodsprings a few days ago and pouted, blue eyes shining.

"I- ACK!"

An apple hit its mark with skilled accuracy, knocking Six dead center in the forehead. He screamed and waved his arms fanatically, as if trying to fly his way to safety. Failure was obvious once he hit the ground, feet still slightly in the air.

"Nice shot." Arcade remarked simply, all too noticeably forcing a weak smile as Veronica placed the rest of the fruit she had bought into a bowl at the center of the table. The scribe tossed the last few apples in and turned to her friend, eyes filled with concern.

"You don't feel well, do you?"

"I'm fine."

"You'd say that if you were bleeding to death."

"So would you, my dear. Now, I'm sorry, but who's the doctor?"

"No need to be an assho-"

Boone casually strolled through the door Veronica had left open. He kept his hands buried in his pockets, breezing past everyone without comment as he headed for the fridge. Only when he had a hand on the doors handle did he peer around, the sunglasses giving him a blank look.

"Gannon being an ass again?"

Arcade rubbed his temples, trying to ward away the pounding that chipped away at his brain with every heartbeat. Normally he loved fighting with Boone, challenging the younger man's mind. He usually won. But every now and again the sniper would prevail, a small smile growing on his lips as he savored victory. He didn't just get flustered and swear like Six did.

"I'm sorry Craig; shouldn't you be brooding in your corner?"

Veronica raised an eyebrow, watching Arcade with those intelligent eyes as she listened to him snap. Boone retrieved a bottle of water from the top shelf and let the door fall close, remaining silent. He turned to Arcade and leaned back, watching the blondes face.

"Okay, you know what?" Arcade rose, the two sets of eyes now making him squirm "I'm going to bed."

Veronica watched him leave pensively, biting at an apple. Once the main bedrooms door clicked shut she looked over, mouth half full of chewed fruit.

"He's sick."

"Oh, I know. How he made it to bed without passing out confuses me."

Suddenly Raul looked up, gently nudging to rim of the old sombrero up from his eyes. He stretched and looked over, noticing Six on his back.

"You okay boss?"

"Eh? Yeah, just chilling."

"…..Whatever you say boss."

XXxxXX

Arcade rolled over, the sheets tangled like restraints around his waist. He sat up, blinking as he vision remained slightly distorted. It took him a few seconds to realize he had fallen asleep with his glasses and adjusted them, squinting in the dark.

_Why am I up at this time of night?_

Just then a twinge poked at his stomach. The blonde sucked in a breath and shivered, trying to stuff the feelings back. They surged however, breaking out into heavy nausea. Arcade kicked the sheets back violently, yelping as his bare toes hit something hard.

"Shit, sorry boy, I didn't know-"

His stomach surged again. He could feel the vomit rising in his throat, threatening to spill out all over the sheets. No. Not here. Not with three other people sleeping just a few feet away. Arcade practically fell out of bed, leaving a confused and whimpering Rex in the dust. He managed to make it to the bathroom and collapsed onto his knees, heaving into the toilet bowl. After a minute nothing came, allowing the doctor to pull his head to a more respectable distance from the place everyone…..

That did it.

Arcade fell forwards, what little dinner Veronica had forced into him now all over the porcelain. Yeah, eating really helped his situation. Thank god for scribes.

"Easy Gannon, don't choke."

Arcade swore blindly and groaned, letting another round of puke go. He tensed as Boone placed a hand on the center of his back, occasionally giving it a gentle pat. Once his friend seemed to be finished the sniper gripped him by the shoulders, keeping him from going face first into the bowl. He dragged Arcade's limp frame backwards, propping him up against the wall a few inches away.

"T-thanks Craig." The doctor struggled to talk, beads of sweat cascading down his cheeks and onto his soaked collar. Boone raised his hands dismissively. His glasses were gone. Arcade briefly noticed the usual black lines under his eyes were lighter than before. Then he noticed something else. His face was bare too.

"Umm, Craig?"

"Hmmm?"

Arcade furrowed his eyebrows, embarrassed. He pointed simply to his eyes, trying but failing to force a smile. Boone watched him for a few seconds, and then nodded. He walked over to the toilet and just reached in, bare fingers. Arcade gagged as he watched his vomit covered glasses be raised out and tossed into the sink to be cleaned.

"Thanks… again. I-im fine now, you should get back to bed. I know you need to sleep when you can."

"I don't have a problem with that anymore."

"….Really?"

Boone's eyebrows rose as he nodded. He turned the sink on and headed for the door, gruffly instructing Arcade to stay put for a few minutes. The blonde nodded weakly and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. It was impossible to remember how much time had passed, but when his eyes peeled back open Boone was crouching down in front of him, a steaming cup in his hands. Arcade leaned forward slowly and accepted the cup, realizing a blanket had been dropped over his shoulders. Boone's face remained its usual neutral state.

"It's Veronica's tea. Usually settles my stomach. Try to drink some."

Arcade sipped, cheeks flushed red. Boone settled down beside him on the floor, arms resting on the tops of his knees. Arcade silently accepted the younger man's offer to stay and leaned his head back again, exhausted. Boone kept quiet, only turning when he felt pressure on his side. Quickly he reached over; catching the still full cup as Arcade suddenly lost his grip. The soldier leaned his own back and sighed, letting Arcade sleep against him.

**Authors note: Guess who's back bitches! Where did I go? Nowhere. I just randomly stopped writing, and then started again. I decided to give this story a few extra chapters since I love the characters. Sorry the writing isn't as good as before, but I sure as hell tried. You like? Read and review!**


	22. How long was I asleep?

Julie stared down, pensively watching the sleeping bundle in her arms. The baby squirmed in his sleep and shifted, not opening his eyes. The doctor simply watched him, a twinge of anxiety poking in her stomach. She sighed heavily and set the little bundle down on a nearby cot, making sure the grimy blankets were wrapped up tight around him.

"You call for me?"

Julie looked over her shoulder, still fiddling with the blankets. She had called Six over two days ago.

"Where have you been? I was worried."

"Ah, sorry. I was…. Wait, you have kids?"

Six let his backpack drop to the dirt floor and walked up behind the small woman, peering over her shoulder. A little red haired boy laid there, bundled up. Julie turned to him and shook her head slowly, averting her eyes from Six to the baby.

"He's not mine. Or anybody's, from what I can tell."

"Ooooh boy, I can smell the favor coming."

Six cocked an eyebrow, watching Julie's thin face. The Followers were like in-laws to the young courier. Every little request they gave he obliged, Arcade breathing down his neck the whole way. He understood The Followers were trying to clean up Freeside, but they were just so fucking _needy_.

"So, what do you need? Caps or something? We have some spare medical supplies up at the suite, too."

Julie's eyebrows rose slightly as she smiled, her lips pressed tightly together like a shut door. She reached down and scooped up the dirty bundle, bringing it to Six. The teenager stared down, head tilted as the baby made a few gurgling sounds in his sleep. He could feel that favor coming. The favor that was most likely going to fuck him over somehow.

"S-so, what do you need?"

"…. I need you to take this baby off my hands."

"….. Ha… ha…. No fuckin' way."

Six didn't think it was possible for Julie's face to soften anymore, but she managed it. Just then the baby stirred and opened his eyes, looking around curiously. The thin Follower shifted the bundle in her arms and laughed gently.

"He's so full of life."

Six felt his eye twitch. Oh yes, he will be fucked.

"That's…. nice."

He suddenly felt so awkward. Julie looked up at him and offered the bundle, still smiling. Six shook his head and sighed, putting his hands up as some type of weak defense.

"Look, Julie, I'm so fucking sorry. I just can't…. I'm not…."

Julie, gently bit still, forced the baby into Six's arms. The courier groaned and accepted the little bundle, looking down nervously as the baby reached up and grabbed at his NCR dog tags.

"Someone left him outside the gate a few days ago, in a crate." Julie murmured quietly "We can't find the mother. Whoever left him isn't coming back. I'm sure of it."

Six nodded and shifted clumsily as the baby continued to stir, now fully awake. He stared up at his holder with clear green eyes, making incoherent sounds as he reached up again for the tags. Six couldn't help but smile, entranced by those eyes as he unhooked the chain around his neck and let the baby have the tags.

"He's really fucking cute…." Six shook his head, looking back up. This was a baby, not a puppy. "Julie, I can't take him. I can barely take care of myself! How can you expect me to…?"

Julie's eyes brightened slightly, seeing the perfect opportunity to haggle.

"Arcade has plenty of experience in child care! He always takes care of the children who run around Freeside…. Please, Six. You see them, don't you? Those children that run around chasing rats and wearing rags? I don't have the resources or the time to care for this baby. If I did, I would never ask this of you. _Please?_"

Six felt guilt build up in his stomach, just as Julie had intended. The woman had more than a point. He found himself struggling for words, shifting the baby in his arms as he fumbled for an excuse.

"I… Ah…."

XXxxXX

"You two ever think about having kids?"

If the cup he had been drinking out of wasn't made of metal, Boone probably could have crushed it. He remained silent, the question floating around in his brain. He turned to Cass, who was laughing drunkenly. His cup was full of water. Hers whiskey.

"What?" Veronica asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down. She leaned her elbows on the table, watching Boone squirm with interest. "You guys never thought about it?"

Boone's jaw locked. He let a long breath rush from his nose and took a sip of water as Cass calmed down, tears in her eyes.

"I tried that before, remember?"

Veronica shook her head, smiling warmly. She turned to Cass and tilted her head curiously, watching the fiery haired woman take another gulp from her glass.

"Awww, come on Sharon. No kiddies?"

"Pffft, fuck no. I ain't poppin' out any brats. Besides, Skipper hates kids."

"Boone loves kids."

Boone had to stop himself from scoffing on impulse. Veronica laughed as she stood, heading for the kitchen door. She grabbed the snipers beret off his head as she went by, twirling it on her finger.

"Oooh we'll see Skipper, we'll see."

Sometimes Boone worried that Veronica could read his mind. Sometimes he wondered if she could somehow manage to see into the future. Most of the time he figured she was just fucking around with him. Cass finished her whiskey and turned to her lover, eyebrow raised.

"You love kids, eh?"

"…..Um…."

"Nice answer."

Both turned as the door was practically kicked in, the thin metal bouncing off the wall behind it. Just before the doorway stood Six, leg still outstretched with a bundle in his arms.

"Ey ass-hats, I got a present for you."

Instinctively Boone figured it was explosive and slid his char a few inches away, letting Six drop the bundle into Cass's arms. She moved away the blankets, her watery green eyes widening. Was it really a bomb?

"Okay, I'm pretty sure it needs water and food, like, once a day. Have fun."

The small courier turned on his heels and strode back out, hands buried in his pockets. Boone blinked a few times and slid his chair back into place. He stood and peered apprehensively over Cass's arm, his own stony eyes going wide.

"Is…. Is that a baby?"

"I think so."

Cass poked carefully at the baby's cheek, causing him to gurgle and smile as he grabbed her finger.

"Oh yeah, definitely a baby."

"….. Aw fu-"

"Good morning you two."

Cass and Boone looked up, both still wide eyed and slightly confused. Arcade stumbled into the room, hair in tangles and missing his glasses. The doctor was still recovering from the flu. He stood wearily at the end of the table, a pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt hanging from his thin frame. He ran his fingers through his mangled hair and raised an eyebrow, looking over the bundle still squirming in Cass's arms. He seemed to come to some kind of conclusion, because _his_ eyes were now wide.

"H-how long was I asleep?"


End file.
